#just dont like really dont i dont want to read that

[xxplastic-cubexx]

Why is Erik taking a shower and is fully prepared to fight naked in that panel 😭

my man turning into a baby is a typical tuesday activity but the second he wanna little naked shower fight NOW its suspicious 🤨

[liyawritesss]

ᴊᴀꜱᴏɴ ᴛᴏᴅᴅ + ᴄʟᴀꜱꜱɪᴄ ʙʟᴀᴄᴋ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇʀꜱ

-> synopsis: there's no denying that Jason Todd Is the intellectual boyfriend we all crave - so let's take a peek into his repertoire and see what are some of his favorite black artists, authors, and philosophers!

         -> characters: Jason Todd | Red Hood

-> from: batman universe

         -> contains: can be read as either pre- or post lazarus pit, 3rd person

-> a/n: here's the first hc post from the batman poll i did! currently taking an intro to black writers class, and I wanted to make a spin on some classics I think Jason would like, specifically from black contemporaries from the like late 1800's to the 1990's. And yes, I know these authors and stories dont necessarily tie in to the canon timeline of things - I honestly just wanted to have fun with this, so please take it with a grain of salt, and if you don't like it or find yourself wanting to comment something mean, just scroll! Save us both the commotion.

         -> join my taglist!

-> tags: @mbakuetshurisprincess @shuriszn @writingintheshadowsforever @cafehyunji @niyahwrites @marsfunzon22 @briology @asensitivecookie @moon-bo-young @flo-milli-shit-hoe @romiantic @shuinami @badass-dora-milaje @uranometrias @insomniac-jay @punkeropercyjackson

      -> Paul Lawrence-Dunbar

             -> dunbar was a young novelist, writer, and poet during the 1880's and 1890's. His writing style is distinct with dialect, which earned him a lot of criticism despite his much popular portrayal of black life in southern America after the end of slavery. A lot of the tone in his pieces depict that of the African Americans struggle for survival post-slavery, as without adequate resources to gain their footing into society, the formerly enslaved were left to fend for themselves. What a lot of people at the time missed in his writings - and what Jason actually gravitates towards - is the fact that his particular style is actually intentional. It acts as a reclamation of what was mocked and dehumanized, reinstating power into it in a way that seems regressive, but is more powerfully progressive in retrospect. ‘Sympathy’ was a poem he didn’t know he needed until he read it, and now he either has the poem taped on his wall somewhere or it’s written/screenshotted in his notes on his phone. Similarly, he finds that the poem ‘We Wear The Mask’ is an allegory to the path he himself has taken.

      -> “Passing” by Nella Larsen

  -> this novel tells the story of two colored women - Irene and Clare - and how they navigate the world with the ability to pass as white women. There’s so much that goes into this novel, from the question of race as a moral ground, sexuality in the form of envy, the loss of community when one crosses the racial lines…. I feel like jason would love this book DOWN, the complexities and intricacies are right up his alley. While the book is not in production, Jason definitely finds some way, shape or form to get his hands on a copy….don’t ask a fanboy his methods okay!

       ->Toni Morrison

             -> Toni Morrison is one of my favorite black authors and by extension it is now Jason’s favorite. The way she writes is just so raw and passionate yet delicate and it really speaks to your soul. She’s one of those authors that’s in a completely different league of her own. I feel like Jason would really love Sula and A Mercy from her. He definitely cried while reading Beloved (everyone cries while reading Beloved). The Bluest Eye is his number one favorite book ever in life and I will die on this hill!!!

       -> “Sonny's Blues” by James Baldwin

             -> I honestly think anything by James Baldwin, Jason would like, but I choose Sonny’s Blues because of the struggle with brotherly love. There’s no secret that Jason has a tumultuous relationship with the rest of the Batfamily, and although for the most part the majority of it has been reconciled, tension lingers. Jason has his reservations, hes brash, and he’s the one that often clashes heads with people. This dynamic reflect that of the narrator and his brother, Sonny, who are constantly at war with one another because of Sonny’s desires and dreams, and the narrator being unable to see them. I feel like this is one of Jason’s comfort novels; it’s bittersweet, heartbreaking, and truly a testament to what people do when they think they’re doing what's best for those they care for.

       -> Other Books and Essays Include…

             -> “Letter to my Nephew” by James Baldwin, “Native Son” by Richard Wright, “Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl” by Harriet Jacobs, “Sweat” by Zora Neal-Hurston, The Parable Duology and “Bloodchild” by Octavia E. Butler

If you enjoyed, please leave a like, comment, and reblog for others to see! And don't be shy to send in a request!

[hannahluvsbillie]

the only one

casual part 3.

(but can be read as a one shot)

part one

✫ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ~ you thought billie had moved on, seeing her post like it was nothing, she was fine. maybe it was just casual to her.

★ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ~ billie eilish x reader

★ 𝐜𝐰! ~ mentions of panic attack, angst, nightmares (?)

ᡣ𐭩 a/n ~ hi! thank you all sm for waiting for part 3!! this one has a little time-skip, i’m thinking maybe 1-2 months since casual part 2. let me know if you like it, hopefully it lived up to your expectations 🥺

it’s been a few months since that last meet up billie and you had. the one where she belittled you and your feelings.

you blocked her the morning after, it wasn’t easy blocking her. someone you fell in love with, but you realized that it was one sided the day she told you it was just causal.

maybe you wanted her to spill her feelings on how she loved you, and didn’t just want you for a quick hook up to relive some steam. but deep down you knew that’d never be the case.

to say you’ve been doing good is a lie, you’ve been.. okay. dating felt pointless as of now, you knew your heart would always belong to billie, even if you two weren’t serious, it didn’t mean you loved her any less.

billie on the other hand, looked like she was doing great. i mean- it wasn’t like you’ve checked up on her, you were non contact. but on her instagram she looked like she was doing great. she’s on tour, her album is still doing good, she has good friends. it was bittersweet to see her now, it still made you cry some nights.

you were laying in your bed, staring up at the ceiling. you had just woke up from your sleep, a dream waking you up. the dream was a recurring one you’ve gotten for the past few months since you ended it with billie.

the dream went something like this: you were in bed and when you turned over, you see billie, sleeping peacefully. you just observe her for however long until your brain wakes you up.

it never went father then that, it was just a constant reminder of her. maybe that’s why you couldn’t get over her.

suddenly your phone starts ringing, waking you from your daze. you shake your head a little and roll over, grabbing your phone off of the nightstand and rubbing your eyes to see who’s calling.

who would call you at 3 am?

you read the number, you don’t recognize it. it’s your area code, but that’s all you recognize. god- they’ve called you 12 times.

you just decide to pick up, hoping they’d stop after that.

“hel-“ you clear your throat, trying to make it sound like you weren’t just asleep. “hello?” you say weakly.

“y/n?” the other person says.

your heart drops, how could you not recognize that voice? the voice that used to sing praises to you, who used to speak to you in the softest voice, the voice you fell in love with.

“billie? what the fuck?” you say, blinking repeatedly. you blocked her, how was she calling you? you pinch yourself once to make sure you aren’t still dreaming, only to be met with pain. okay, so this was real.

“i know im sorry- i just- i really need you right now, i have no one else to call and i don’t know what to do.” billie speaks, immediately apologizing. you can already tell she was in the middle of a

panic attack. her voice cracking when she speaks. you feel that same pang in your chest hearing her like that.

you take a deep breath, running a hand through your hair. “okay- bills- billie, calm down. breathe for a minute” you say. you regret answering, it just made everything come back.

you hear her take a breathe and go silent for a moment, before speaking again. “i’m really sorry- i know you blocked me and we aren’t supposed to be talking, but i just- i dont know what to do. you’re the only one that knows how to deal with me when im like- when im like this.” she speaks softly, her voice still shaky.

you go silent for a second, zoning out looking at the floor. inviting her over would be horrible for you, ruining all of the progress you’ve made. but fuck, you can’t just leave her alone, you can’t help but care about her.

“okay- fuck, do you want to come-“

“yeah.”

“okay.”

your eyes widen when she speaks. that was quick. as soon as she says yes you hang up, putting your phone down. what did you just do?

a few minutes later you’re pacing though the kitchen, waiting for the doorbell to ring. the gravity of what you just did sinks in, you shouldn’t of offered.

but as soon as the doorbell rings and you rush over to open the door- maybe a bit too quickly, and you see a disheveled billie, all of it disappears. god you just wanted to protect her from everything.

her hair sticks to her forehead, the same hair that you used to play with, her eyes were red and looked up at you with so

much guilt. it’s obvious she feels horrible

about coming here. maybe she wasn’t as good as it seemed on her instagram. it looks like she’s back in that place she was in when you first met her.

“oh, baby…” you coo, gently putting a hand on her shoulder and leading her inside. when you close the door and look back at her, she looks like a lost puppy, her eyes still swollen.

“i’m- sorry-“ billie chokes out, starting to cry again. you immediately pull her into a hug, gently cradling her head in your hand, the other hand gently rubbing her back.

“it’s okay billie.” you say, gently kissing her head.

you felt so many things, you let her into your house even when she broke your heart, you truely could never deny her, especially when she’s crying in your arms like this.

you’re fucked now.

[specific-dreamer]

“because you’re our little brother and we love you… did you hear what i just said? i said i love you”

whatever you do don’t think about how before everything ponyboy would have been ecstatic to hear that.

don’t think about how ponyboy tried to convince himself that since darry didn’t love him, he in turn didn’t care about him but he failed everytime.

don’t think about how ponyboy stayed up some nights asking soda how come darry changed and why he didn’t like pony no more. and soda doing his best to convince pony that darry does still love he’s just tired all the time and he’s still having trouble adjusting to their new dynamic too but pony just doesn’t get it.

don’t think about how if darry just said i love you a little more often they wouldn’t have been in this mess. if he said it a little more than maybe he and ponyboy wouldn’t have gotten in so many arguments and soda wouldn’t have to have been caught playing middle man

definitely don’t think about how upsetting it must’ve been for darry to finally bare his soul and tell pony he loves him only to be met with silence in return.

dont think about how he darry might’ve thought that a simple i love you is what would’ve brought them back to normal, because he didn’t realise just how bad their relationship got to the point of him needing that olive branch later.

except (and definitely don’t think about this part) ponyboy knows atp that his brothers love him. but he still thinks they love him but don’t really accept all of him. because up til this point his friends hated darry for nearly going soc, so to a kid his age the message he got was “we don’t want all of you; we just want the part of you that’s a greaser”. so when darry asks to read his story, when darry extends that branch, he asking to understand/get to know all of ponyboy. something nobody else did except for johnny (and maybe cherry for that one night).

sure soda asked to, but when pony said he wasn’t too sure about reading it too them, soda was seemed as if he was going to let the conversation drop. he was going to let pony keep hiding so to speak. but darry wasn’t. well he might’ve if only to keep the peace, but darry asking to read the story himself shows that he’s willing to think things through rather than instantly being worried/shouting at ponyboy in the future. it shoes that he’s trying to put himself in ponyboy’s shoes to he can figure out where his head is at (something that darry previously made fun of)

[ghostyeyestohide]

Just The T(hree)wo of Us

(I Put A Spell On You Part 3)

Pairing: Terrance (Foe) x Valerie (Plus Size Black Fem OC) x Junior (Foe) x Hen (Foe)

Warnings: SMUT, 18+ (MINORS, SCROLL AWAY), buildup (if you got the attention span of a squirrel, DONT READ), threesome, bxb, oral sex (f receiving, m receiving), titty sucking/fondling, bisexuality (from m and slightly, non-sexual from f), deepthroat (m and f), smoking, double vag penetration, masturbation, choking, ass eating , some femdom, some masdom, grinding, some slapping, dirty talk, praise kink, hair pulling, creampie (Terrance to Valerie), voyeurism, cussing, aftercare, drinking, drunk/high behavior, some jealousy, some angst, mentioning of upbringing (how they met), mentions of sexual harassment, mention of blood, and Non-Canon/Canon.

Parts: Part One • Part Two

Summary: After eating dinner, dancing with each other, and putting Hen in bed to rest from her drunkness, the remaining trio spend time together when things take a steamy turn.

A/N: It’s here. My version of the perfect threesome that should’ve happened for Foe. This was the one I was looking the most forward to because literally, despite the ever-growing homoeroticism tension between the men (which anyone who watched or read this felt) and just the chemistry we got between Aaron, Paul, and Saoirse, we got nothing. I felt like we got blue balls because how do you film that and not give us the gay shit or the bi shit? Also, some of the scientific things in here might be confusing, but this is a fanfiction after all. Hope y’all enjoy it!

🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲

do not copy or repost my work. I do not authorize it.

🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲

The couples eat quietly at the table, saying a few words to each other. A few quick glances, drinking some of their wine, some laughter, and utensils move around.

Junior sips his wine as he looks at Valerie, clearing his throat.

“So. Valerie.” he says, making her look at him.

“Yes?”

“I know this is your last night here and we do appreciate you for staying with us in our home, even if we didn’t make you feel like it. But, we were wondering…”

“How did you two meet?” asks Hen, butting in.

“Me and…”

“Terrance.”

“Oh! I thought you meant me and your husband! Got a little worried there.” she said, making everyone laughing.

She clearly her throat as she looked at Terrance, who was patiently waiting for her to tell it.

“Well. What’s a romantic story without a sad background, right?” she smiled a little, grabbing his hand to hold as everyone nodded.

“I’m originally from New York, as you can tell since this gorgeous man is very British.” she chucked. “But yeah. I was born there, but I’m not sure whether I was born in a hospital or on the streets because from what they told me, I was abandoned a few hours later in Inwood Hill Park.” she added.

“Oh my god.” said Hen, clutching her chest.

As she was about to speak again, Valerie feels her chest heating up, causing her to gently rub it.

“You okay?” asked Terrance.

“Mmhm. I just feel a little funny when I tell this story.”

“We can stop if you want.”

“No, no. It’s okay.” she said, squeezing his hand. “But, because they couldn’t find my parents, specifically my mother, I was placed in foster care. Not that I have an interest in finding them now cause I really don’t care. I bounced around a lot growing up. Some years, I was in Washington Heights. Other years, Harlem. And for the last three years of high school, Jamaica. A neighborhood in Queens, not the country, in case you got confused. But, because of this, my grades weren’t that great, but I still managed to pass for the year and that was fine with me. I knew I wasn’t going to college not because I couldn’t afford it, but I didn’t really think I had a future.”

She takes a sip of her wine as she carefully grabs one of Terrance’s hands and place it under her stomach, signaling to keep it eye on it.

“I was also picked on a lot for how I looked. Classmates, friends, roommates, even strangers. Same story you probably heard about any plus size person getting told about their health, compared to animals, statues, cars, food, even books. But that wasn’t bothering me as I got older. It was when they were saying no one was gonna love someone like me, no wonder your people abandoned you, you’re a failure, and like those kind of mean things. That’s like something you can’t get really get rid of and you just gotta hide it in your face or they’re gonna think you’re weak, even if you know that’s not true. As soon as I turned 18, I noticed I started getting treated differently.”

“You did something good?” asked Junior.

She shakes her before taking another sip, feeling the sensation growing a bit, making her feel a bit uneasy.

“Maybe I shouldn’t drink more of that.” she mumbled, pushing her glass towards Terrance, who takes it.

“Did you wanna change your…” he asked, signaling her tab.

“Mmm. Not yet. It’s not….messing with me.” she replied before clearing her throat. “Sorry, where was I? Oh right. When you become legal, I guess most men start paying attention? I mean, I was always getting that, but always rejected it since I was underage and didn’t want to deal with an older boyfriend like some girls unfortunately get groomed into doing. I had a boyfriend who was treating well until he felt like he can do better and just abandoned me. And of course, it was getting worse as I was getting harassed, stalked, and degraded almost every day that I had to quit so many jobs so I can avoid it. Of course, this was annoying my group home a lot since they felt like I was lazy when I’m just protecting myself?”

The sensation began winding down as she shifted in a her seat, fixing her posture.

“This went on until three months before my 21st birthday. The day after I quit another job, my friend told me that this post Columbia graduation party was looking for waitresses to serve drinks, offering $7.50 per hour + tips to work, as long as you were 21 and above. I declined because I wasn’t that age and of course, she knew I was gonna say that because she immediately pulled out a fake I.D. with my face and fake information on there. So now, I can’t say no!” she said, making everyone laugh.

“Oh, you sound like you loved trouble.” said Hen, smiling at her.

“Hen!” said Junior, irritated at her comment.

“It’s okay, she’s not wrong. It’s New York after all. Hope y’all get to visit one day.” said Valerie as she took a sip of her water.

“We get to the party, dressed in our black tie, white dress shirt, black slacks, and black shoes uniform. It was starting off fine because everyone was behaving well, socializing, congratulating each other, you know, just being proud of finishing their degree. But like three hours later, almost everyone is torn up. Like, once all of the adults and responsible people left, the hard drinking, dancing, making out, joking around shit started. It was slightly getting bad that we had to secretly switch the alcohol out with water so we weren’t responsible for anything that happens.” she continued.

“I went on break finally. And as I was sitting in an area where we were allowed, this group of drunken male graduates came up to me. I already knew what the hell was about to happen, so I was preparing to get away. The ringleader, as I like to call him, started harassing me and was like show your tits, I’ll pay you a $1000 to see em and was waving the money in my face. I almost gave in, but I knew better, so I said no and got up to leave, but his friend immediately shoves me back into seat, hovering over me. They beginning degrading me, saying I’m just a big bitch who shouldn’t have standards since I’m not worthy, probably waiting until someone richer than them picks me, and basically the I’m a nice guy monologue that Hen would probably know so many different versions of.” she said, looking at her.

“Oh, please. We’ll be here all night.” she replies.

“See! She knows the feeling. As I’m getting bombarded….this tall, beautiful guy comes up, cursing them out. Telling them to fuck off, you don’t wanna try me, I’ll whoop your ass in what I thought was very old New Yorker accent and they went finally away, ending the tormenting.”

“I can’t believe you really thought I was from there.” said Terrance, gently pulling her into him.

“I mean, you did sound like you could’ve been raised in Hyde Park, but then again, it was late. But, he made sure I was okay, ask what was my name and we talked for very long time, very into everything I was saying. How he was from South London, was on a scholarship here, and now, just got his bachelor’s in bioinformatics, with a minor in space studies. Which told me he was the real deal. And he was starting at OuterMore very soon, working on the then-developing living in space program. Then I got kicked out.”

“What?” said Hen.

“Why?” asked Junior.

“The guys complained and I was late from my break. So, I didn’t get paid. However, he came out, apologized for what happened and walked me home. He paid more than what I was suppose to get, but I didn’t want to take it at first. Kept telling him I wasn’t one of those girls, but he reassured that he knew that, giving me his number to call him.” she said, rubbing his face.

“She was very nervous. I guess she was worried I was wasting her time, just trying to smash and go like they were calling it, but I wasn’t. Most of the women I’ve dated had everything they worked that most successful men were looking to have on their arm. But me? I was just looking for someone that will make me happy, regardless of what they brought to the table. We went on a few dates to places she never been to, went shopping for new clothes, took her to do things she always wanted to do. All to see her smile, feeling the love that she always wanted.” said Terrance, rubbing her side.

They both looked at Hen and Junior, who were connecting very closely to the story they’re hearing, sitting closer to each other.

“I can remember the day I moved out of my group home. Or, should I say, kicked out. They were upset that I was, once again, seeing Terrance for another date instead of getting another job that I got accused of being his sugar baby, which didn’t make sense as Terrance is only three months older than me. So, I fought one of them.” she said, laughing at the last part.

“She called me crying, telling me what had happened and I told her she can’t stay there much longer. So, I drove over there as fast as I could and helped her move everything she owned into the car. She got her file, which had her birth certificate, social security card, and other documents that were very important and we left.”

“Were they fawning over you when you arrived?” asked Hen.

He scoffs, rolling his eyes.

“…it was fucking pathetic, Hen. Really. I told her not to hang up as she was packing whatever she could while I was on my way, and the whole time, they were insulting her. Saying the most disrespectful things over an assumption they made. But when I showed up, the energy changed. Oh wow, you’re cute, this is the guy Val’s been seeing?, you don’t need her, you need me like absolutely pathetic.”

“I moved into his place and we stayed in, order some Indian for take out. While we were eating, he asked me what do I see myself doing if this relationship went further, saying it’s okay to be honest….so I told him the truth. I didn’t want to work at all. I just wanted to be a stay-at-home wife and mom, taking care of the house, cooking since that’s what I like to do, cleaning if its needed, crocheting, reading, just being home while he worked. And, I broke down crying, feeling like I wasn’t the girl he wanted to be with since I have nothing remotely close to his achievements to offer. But instead of confirming it, he kissed me, saying he didn’t care about me not having shit. He just cared about being in love with me and bringing me along his journey with OuterMore.” she smiled, eyes begin tearing up.

“About three days later, I got a call from my supervisor. He said he wanted me to begin working with them as an agent immediately instead of continuing to be their associate, being impressed with the work in my portfolio. After I accepted the offer, I went to this jewelry store she liked and bought her dream engagement ring.” he said, looking at her and the ring on her left hand.

“He proposed to me at Inwood Hill a few hours later. Saying after six months of dating, listening to my past for hours, and thinking about the future I see for us, he decided that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with me, wanting to take care of me and our family. I said yes, obviously. Then, that Thursday of the week, after buying our wedding bands, we eloped at a courthouse in lower Manhattan. I wore this creamy silk dress with a white fur sleeve, sparkly white pumps, natural makeup, a side part that the Hollywood Divas had, a red lip, and matching diamond choker and earrings. With these gorgeous red buds as my bouquet.” she says, staring into the distance.

“And I wore a black suit and black shoes, not wanting to outshine her.” he adds, making them both laugh.

“We went to Miami for our honeymoon. Had so much fun being in the sun and going to salsa clubs. Then, we headed Cleveland, where he started the work on the program.”

“And now here we are. 8 years later.”

“Still going strong.” she said, hold her hand up to look at her engagement and wedding ring.

Terrance smiled, gently placing his hand with his band over hers. Hen watched them, fascinated by their love story while Junior looked at them with a puzzled look on him face.

“Is there a reason you haven’t welcomed a baby yet?” he asked, skepticism filling his voice.

Terrance sends a glare, stiffening up. Valerie looks at Junior, panicking in silent as she fights the urge to not reveal her true self. She squeezes his hand, hoping to calm down.

“I work too much.” said Terrance, relaxing his jaw. “I always wanted to have kids when we are ready. But, because I’m too focused on my assignments, I don’t wanna bring in babies if I’m not gonna be there for them. Or her.”

“Well. I hope you do have some. You two would be amazing parents.” said Junior before he gets up and walks out, stunning everyone.

“….did you say something wrong?” said Valerie, finally calming down.

“No. Let him be. He’s probably going back to his old self slowly. Which is normal for replicas to do when the real one is coming back.” said Terrance, looking down.

“I wanna apologize about what I said to you yesterday, Valerie. I shouldn’t have assumed that you were using him when I was just reacting negatively to how both of you loving each other while….me and him can’t do the same. What I said came from a place of hate and I’m sorry that I even said it.” said Hen, with an apologetic look in her eyes.

“…I accept your apology. But let me just tell you this as a way for you to understand: if it can’t get fixed after it’s broken….just let it go.” said Valerie, sending a small smile to her.

Hen nods shakily, understanding what she meant by that. Valerie wipes her face before standing up, fixing herself.

“Dinner was delicious, but Ima go change before I eat some of my cake. Don’t be greedy while I’m gone.” she said, kissing Terrance’s forehead before heading towards the stairs.

“Baby, wait.” he mumbles, following her.

“Hm?” she says, turning around to face him.

He steps closer, wrapping his hands around her waist, before placing a long, sweet kiss on her lips. She wraps her hands around his neck, kissing him back. She breaks it, catching her breath as he smiled, resting his chin on her head.

“Just because I’m in your embrace, it doesn’t mean you’re off the hook. Well, at least not yet. Understand?” she says, letting go of him.

“Yes, ma’am.”’ he replied quietly, watching her walk up the stairs.

“….you really do love her.” said Hen.

“She’s all I have. And I’m all she has.” he responds, walking back into the dining room, and picking up their plates before heading to the kitchen. Hen takes a swigs of her wine before getting up to do the same thing.

🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲

Changing out of her dress to a black, silky wrap dress that enhances her chest by pushing them up, she stands in front of the bathroom mirror, taking in her beauty.

Looking down, she unzips a black pouch and opens it up. Inside, its holds full and empty tabs: mini bullet shaped tablets, covered in the ‘OuterMore’ logo and serial numbers, that holds a light green liquid, specialized to keep her up and running without ever going bad. She changes it monthly since that’s how long it lasts, getting a yearly supply.

Picking up her magnetic tool, she places it on her upper left tricep, watching it connect to a spot, which lights up a glowing, white ‘OuterMore’ circular logo before it opens, sticking out a bloody covered empty tab. Using a cotton pad, she pulls it, disconnecting it from its hold. feeling the pressure releasing. Picking up a new one, she groans as she inserts it, feeling it connect before the circle sucks it, closing it.

Afterwards, she cleans the empty tab before placing it in the pouch and zipping it, washing her hands before walking out of the bathroom. After closing the door, she turns to head back down, but is stopped as Junior stands in front of her, leaning against the wall. She puffs, giving him a stern look.

“Whatever you’re about to say, I don’t wanna hear it.” she states as she turns.

Junior grabs her arm, gently pulling back and pinning her against the door. He steps into her space, breathing hard.

“If you mention it to Hen, I swear….”

“You swear to what? You’re gonna hurt me? Reveal that I got turned on by you watching us fuck like an audience member watching a play? Because he already knows and if anything, it makes him want you even more.” she said, tracing over his face.

Junior, alarmed by her reaction, steps back slowly. She smiles evilly, leaning forward.

“This isn’t over. This is just the beginning.” she whispered, glaring at him before heading downstairs.

Junior leaned against the wall, trying to figure out what she was meant by that.

🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲

Junior walks into the kitchen and grabs a beer. As he grabs a seat in the dining room, he overhears a song playing in the living room.

He looks and sees Hen sitting on the edge with a glass of wine as Valerie was eating some of her cake. They were watching Terrance, smoking and drinking, walk around the room as he began to recite the lyrics of the song playing:

I did not become someone different

That I did not want to be, as he walks to where Junior was watching, smoking his blunt before blowing the smoke out and putting up his fist.

But I'm new here

Will you show me around?, he said, looking at both Hen and Valerie.

“Maybe.” Hen replies in a flirty way.

“Watch it.” said Valerie, looking at her. Hen throws her hands up in a surrendering way as Terrance starts walking towards them slowly.

No matter how far wrong you've gone, he says, posing in front of them.

You can always turn around, as he nods with the blunt positioned in front of him, making all of them laugh as he takes another hit.

Met a woman in a bar, as he blows out the smoke and takes a seat between the women, sitting slightly closer to Hen.

Told her I was hard to get to know, as Junior walks in, taking a seat in one of the chairs across from the trio.

And near impossible to forget, as Valerie looks at him.

She said I had an ego on me, as Terrance leans in her space.

The size of Texas, as he kisses her neck, surprising her, who hits him in his chest, making him and Hen laugh.

Valerie grabs his wrist with the blunt, hits it, and blows in face before kissing him passionately, both fighting for control before she breaks it, chuckling on his shoulder. He smiles as he leans near Hen, who is slowly getting even more drunk as Junior watches, having an invidious look on his face.

“Ready?” asked Terrance.

No matter how far wrong you've gone, as him and Hen sang, with the latter mumbling it.

“Yeah..go..1, 2, 3, 4.” he whispered, holding an invisible microphone in front of her.

You can always turn around, as the trio sang happily, smiling and giggling.

“Wow, we’re all fucked.” said Valerie as she nibbled on her slice.

Terrance lets out a laugh as he places his glass on the table before leaning back and smoking. Valerie sips some of her wine as she gently rubs his thigh, making him send her a lustful look.

And I'm shedding plates like a snake, as Hen gets up, placing her glass on the table.

She does a playful hissing and snake hand motion towards Junior, who gets up to get away, but she pulls him back, begging him to stay. They spin for a moment as Valerie and Terrance, now laid out on the couch, watches.

“That’s it, man!” said a gleeful Terrance as Hen begins to kiss on Junior’s neck, making him blush. He looks at Valerie with an itch in his eye before leaning close to Hen’s ear, face dropping.

“I don’t want you two talking about me anymore.” he says loudly, but Hen ignores, still rubbing and kissing on him.

Terrance chuckles as Valerie watches with pity, feeling very bad for Hen in this moment. Junior begins kissing back, but she slowly begins to pull away, mood becoming sour.

“Hey, that’s it! That’s the spirit!” said Terrance, not understanding what’s going on as his eyes are half closed.

“Don’t make this even worse, baby.” said Valerie, sipping more.

Hen angrily walks off, leaving Junior alone with his embarrassment. She goes to their music box in the dining room and cuts the song abruptly, snapping Terrance out of it.

“….what happen?” he asks, looking at Junior, who looks back at him.

“Your hardheaded subject is a fucking mood killer.” said Valerie as she got up with her glass, walking to where Hen was.

Terrance watches her in a confused manner as Junior stood there, said nothing. In the dining room, Hen is finding the next song as Valerie appears next to her.

“Hey. Are you okay?” she asks, placing her hand on her shoulder.

“I’ll be fine. He’s just cranky.” said Hen, still searching.

“You have got to stop excusing him, Hen.”

“Val, please. I don’t wanna…”

“Just find the song.” she said, slowly becoming irritated.

After a few more minutes of searching, she finds the song, pressing play on it:

“Oh, I love this song here!” Valerie exclaims, slowly moving to the beat.

Hen walks to where the wine bottle was, pouring the remaining inside her glass, and drinking it. She joins Val, dancing along to the beat.

“What happen?” Terrance asked again, looking at Junior, who is also dancing slowly.

“Ah, fuck it.” he replied.

“You didn’t like us singing?”

“No.”

Terrance lets out a laugh as Junior continues dancing, not paying him no mind.

“Oh, you’re in for a good time.” he mumbled, drinking out of his glass.

The women begin dancing with each other, doing a couple’s routine.

The boy could sing, knew how to move, everything, as they spanned.

Always wanting more, he'd leave you longing for, as they dipped.

Black velvet and that little boy's smile, as they sang.

Black velvet with that slow southern style, as they span again.

A new religion that'll bring ya to your knees, as Valerie turns Hen forward, bringing her close and places her hands on her hips.

Black velvet if you please, as they grinded slowly into a semi-squat, surprising Hen.

“Oh, so you get down like this?” she asked, standing up with her. Valerie laughed, gently moving them back and forth.

“Only if the men stopped dancing. Or if I’m attracted to you.” she replied, turning her around to face her.

Hen makes a giddy expression, wrapping her hands around her neck.

“So you’re saying I have a chance?” she asked curiously, making both of them smile.

“That’s only if you actually want to be with a woman. And based on everything I know about you, you don’t have it.” she replied, spinning them around as Hen gasped.

The way he moved, it was a sin, so sweet and true, as they span.

Always wanting more, he'd leave you longing for, as they dipped.

Black velvet and that little boy's smile, as they sang, off-key this time.

Black velvet with that slow southern style, as they span again.

A new religion that'll bring ya to your knees, as Hen turns Valerie forward, bringing her close and slowly creeping her hand around her neck

Black velvet if you please, as they grinded slowly into a semi-squat, with her gently squeezing it, making Valerie smirk.

“Liked the response, but you’re still not selling it.” she said, causing Hen to scoff as both women laugh.

Suddenly, they hear someone clear their throat. As they looked up, they see Junior leaned against the frame, staring at them with an exasperated look. Hen, scared of what he’ll do, steps back but falls after her dress catches the ledge of the chair.

“Ow!” she yelps.

“Wow! Two in a row for mood killing, Junior.” said Valerie as she kneels to help her.

“Oh, don’t act like you wasn’t just grinding on her!” he yells, now angry.

“It’s called dancing with each other to the vibe of the song, which sounds like you don’t quite understand!” she said, helping Hen up.

Hen groans, rubbing her head. Junior rolls his eyes, not saying anything before walking into the kitchen.

“I think I’m done for the night.” she mumbled, now sleepily.

“Want me to help you to bed?” asked Valerie.

Hen nods, putting her arm around her waist as she does the same. They began walking, passing Junior on the way out as Valerie looks at Terrance.

“Baby, can you be a good boy and bring Hen a slice of the cake, maybe two ibuprofens, and a glass of water?” she asks as they head up.

“Yeah. I’ll be up in a second.” said Terrance, getting up to walk to the kitchen.

Junior, drinking another beer, watches Terrance take out a plate and slicing a piece of the cake, plating it before grabbing a glass and filling it with water from the pitcher. Placing the glass near the plate, he examines the cabinet until he find the ibuprofen bottle and shakes out two pills, placing them on the plate.

“You’re fine with your wife dancing on mines like that?” Junior asks, breaking the silence.

“We been kissing behind their backs for months.”

“So? That doesn’t make it okay.”

“I guess you two are almost even.” he replies, grabbing the plate and glass, walking towards the stairs.

“And I’m suppose to carry on while you’re not even mad?!”

“Junior.” he says, turning to look at him. “She’s attracted to women. Always has been. I know her type. Hen’s not one of them.”

He continues walking, with Junior’s tensive gaze following him.

🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲

Gently placing Hen in bed, Valerie moves over to let Terrance place the glass and plate on the nightstand before he goes out, closing the door behind him.

“Alright. When you wake up in the morning, you take at least one pill. If it’s even worse, take both. Eat some of the cake when you keep waking up. Helps with the nausea.” she said, placing the cover over Hen as the latter watches.

She gently traces over Valerie’s chest, making her breathe steady before removing her hands away. She leans forward, gently pushing Hen’s hair back.

“Hen. Don’t get me wrong, you are a beautiful woman. But, I know this is not what you truly want. You’re just doing this to get back at him for what he did tonight. Or you’re scared of the real Junior not meeting your needs when he comes home. Remember what I told you to do.” she states, looking at her.

She kisses her hands before getting up, walking to the door.

“…I don’t want him to go!” Hen cries out, sniffling.

Valerie sighs, turning to look at her.

“Then spend enough time with him tomorrow. At least you get an extra day alone with him. Try to treasure your memories before they take him.”

“And you feel nothing? Not even a bad feeling?”

“Like I said…..I’m used to it….I’m used to everything.”

She stood there, thinking about everything she’s witnessed since becoming a life long replica of Valerie. While there’s always the good moments, the bad ones seem to be the ones that stay in her mind as they shut them off after their final goodbye.

“Good night, Valerie.” said Hen, slowly closing her eyes.

“Good night, Hen.” she replied, walking out the door.

🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲

As Valerie walks to her room, the door of the room, that Junior and Terrance were in earlier, opens. Terrance pops out, looking at her.

“Hey.” he says.

“Hey.” she says, smiling a little.

“Did you want to come and sit as I examine Junior?”

“Examine? Ain’t it a little too late for that?”

“Yeah, but……he seems a little…..tense. And I think you and I can help him with that.” he says, gently pulling her close.

“….are you insane? I thought you wouldn’t violate your policy, putting all of us in jeopardy!” she said, pushing him back. He laughs, pulling her back.

“We can erase it. It’s not hard and only takes 30 minutes. I can do it tomorrow after I take you home. Plus…”

He trails off as he places kisses on her neck, making her tense up, heat rising all over her.

“You admitted to him watching us. So Why. Don’t. We. Punish. Him?” he says in between kisses as he rubs her breasts.

Valerie laughs, moaning quietly as she rubs Terrance’s length through his pants while looking at a very shirtless, drunk Junior, who’s facing the wall, back towards them.

“Fine. As long as I’m in control.” she replied, walking into room.

“Always.” he whispers, closing the door behind him, which startles Junior.

“What the fuck, man?” he asked, turning to look at him.

He stops, looking at Valerie, who winks at him before taking a seat on the bed. Terrance walks over to a box, retrieving a small device dot as he turns on the control system, which detects breathing, water intake, and heartbeating.

“Valerie is going to sit in if that’s okay.” he says, looking at Junior.

“Yeah. That’s fine.” he replied, still looking at her.

Terrance walks over, standing on his right as he turns him forward while Valerie lays across the bed.

“Hold your arm up like this.” he says, gently lifting Junior’s arm up.

“Have you two been drinkinnnng?” he asks drunkly, holding the arm up.

“I think we all been drinking.” replied Valerie, making all three of them laugh.

Terrance places the dot on his armpit, looking at him while pressing it down to seal it. Junior looks at him, a glare in his eyes as Valerie watches.

“Is something bothering you?” he asks.

“Mmmm.” as he shakes his head.

“…I can feel it in you.”

“No….its more like an awakening.” he replied, lifting his left arm up.

Terrance nods, removing his hands as he turned to grab his glass of wine off the nightstand, walking back to the box as he signals Valerie to ask the next question on the paper next to her.

“And how has this awakening affected Hen?” she asks, making him turn to look at her in a discreetly manner.

He laughs, letting out a strange sound as Terrance watches.

“….are you working with OuterMore too?” he asks.

“What makes you think that?”

“Asking questions about Hen. Suddenly showing concern for her? Was that story you were telling earlier planned? Did he tell you to do that?”

“Oh yes. I faked everything for sympathy, especially for the one who’s trying to save their marriage.” she replied sarcastically, making Terrance laugh.

“You’re fucking sick. Him being here and asking questions about her is sick, you’re being okay with it—“

“Back at square one.” she mumbled.

“Everything is just fucking sick with you two.”

“Look, she was just wondering as it’s apart of the questions. You don’t have to be rude about it.” said Terrance as he places a bracelet on Junior’s left wrist.

“What is that?!” he says, looking at it.

“It monitors your hydration. Does she tells you what she likes?” he asks, handing Valerie a glass of water.

Junior looks at him, very confused about the question as Valerie scoots to lay against the railing, retrieving the water.

“…what’s that?”

Valerie chuckles, sipping her water as she knows where her husband is going with this.

“…your wife, Junior. Is she open and honest with her preferences?” asks Terrance, who’s voice goes a little deep.

“About what?”

“Come on…you know….fucking.” he replies with a delicious lustful tone on the last word.

Valerie groans a bit, slightly becoming aroused by his questioning as Junior, who is slowly becoming annoyed but turned on, stares at him.

“Is she explicit about what she likes?”

“You’re sick.” said Junior.

“What she needs.”

“Fuck you.” he said, giggling as Terrance continued.

“Every relationship depends on open and honest communication, you know that.” he says as he sits down in his chair.

“Oh, fuck you.”

“He’s not hearing it at all.” said Valerie, now rubbing her leg.

“It’s fine. Its fine. It’s just a conversation.” he says, giggling along with Junior, who now stares at the both of them.

Junior slowly gets up from his chair, turning it to face forward, before sitting down, keeping an intense glare on Terrance, who matches his energy.

“..do you enjoy playing with us?” asks Junior.

“People fascinate me. You-you two fascinate me.” said Terrance, looking at Valerie, who is now sitting forward.

“Is that how you keep your marriage alive?”

“….I listen to her preferences. Her needs. Her orders. Even if she doesn’t say it explicitly.” he replied, not taking his eyes off her.

“Oh. So you’re not the one in control.”

“Never was. And he wanted it that way.” said Valerie, getting up.

“Oh really?”

She nodded, gently tracing Terrance’s arms as she slowly walked around him, making him lick his lips.

“He was bored of being in control while making love, felt like it should be an equal thing that shouldn’t be looked down on. So, I asked him what did want me to do.” she says as she stands in front of him, facing Junior.

“….what did he say?”

“Bark orders. Tell him what to do, choke him, tease him, slap him, punish him, was into degrading until I got a little uncomfortable, and my favorite: denying him of release.” she says as she sits on his lap, feeling his length poking at her.

“Does he know you like being watched like a fucking whore would?” he asks, looking at the both of them.

Valerie chuckles as she begins kissing Terrance, grinding against his length, which makes him let out a few groans. Junior looks away, moving his hands to cover his now growing length. Terrance breaks the kiss, looking at him.

“She already admitted that when she told me you were there the night I was fucking her against the couch. The same day you got on your knees and sucked me off while Hen was out.” he said, making Junior look at him in an appalling way and Valerie laughing, getting up.

She knew they kissed a few times, but Junior blowing Terrance, even though he hates them? Oh, this just makes this night even more interesting and exciting for her.

“….I thought you weren’t real. Assumed the wife thing was just him lying about his attraction.” he confessed, looking at her with a pathetic look.

“So that’s why you were out there? You were hoping he was really alone so you two could fuck and Hen wouldn’t find out. Tsk tsk.” she replied, taking a swig from Terrance’s wine glass.

She gently tracing over Junior’s chest, taking in everything she just found out just in this moment. She slowly sits in his lap, hearing him wince as her ass rubbed against his length as Terrance looks on, gently rubbing his own.

“You know, baby…..you did a good job choosing the first man, I’ll give you that. But him though? Oh, you definitely wanted a brat to fuck.” she says, hearing Terrance chuckle.

“First man? You guys are open?” asks Junior.

“No. We’re almost that, but it was just me bringing home women I wanted to fuck and sharing with him. I don’t know what’s it called, but it’s that.” she says, wrapping her arms around him.

“You do this with all of your subjects? Risking your job while lying to their partners?” said Junior, getting heated.

“Don’t pretend you didn’t go along with it when you’re the one who made the first move.” said Terrance.

“Please. How many men have you said that to?”

“You’re the first one. I made sure to never hook up with any of the female subjects, wives, or girlfriends as a way to protect his job. Hell, I didn’t think he would actually get attracted to a man ever. Until he got assigned to you. And suddenly, you started to pop up in his mind…”

She begins moving her hips against his clothed length, making Junior hold in his groans as Terrance becomes even more aroused.

“He probably was thinking about you while he was fucking me. Imagining you twisted all up on the couch, stroking yourself as he pounds that attitude out of you, basically dominating you as you moaning under him.” she said, gently sucking his neck.

“My god, y’all are sick.” he whispered, groaning at the sensation of her essence soaking him.

She stops abruptly, making Junior hold a scowl at her. She removes her arms, placing them at her sides.

“So push me off. Since you hate it so bad. Be a real man like you are.”

He looks at Terrance, who is waiting for him to make the next move. Looking her up and down, he takes in her beauty, understanding why Terrance chosen her as his wife. Who wouldn’t want to be with this beautiful woman forever?

Looking down to where the string is, he pulls it, which unwraps and opens her dress, exposing her breasts and underwear. He removed it, tossing it to the side as he looks at her breasts, salivating at the roundness and hard nipples. He gently touches them until she raised his arms up, holding them hostage. She smiles at him, leaning in.

“You’re gonna obey me and Terrance. Which means no touching, including yourself, no fucking unless one of us tells you to move, and no disobeying. Understand?” she said, leaning over him.

“…yes.” he nodded, locking eyes with her.

Valerie motions Terrance to come to them, which he does. She gently pulls him down to her, placing a sloppy kiss on his mouth before turning back to Junior, who watches hungrily. She traces his mouth with her fingers before giving him a sloppy kiss as well, with him slightly fighting back.

“Don’t get too greedy, baby.” whispered Terrance, rubbing her back.

She pulls away, moving to the side a bit as she pulled Terrance to Junior, backing up to give them space. The men hesitated for a moment before embracing in a kiss, with Terrance wrapping his hand around Junior’s neck. She carefully slides out of Junior’s lap, walking to get a sip of water.

Terrance breaks the kiss, breathing very hard as he smirks at Junior, lust consuming the both of them. He picks him up by the neck, almost having him off his feet and suffocating him.

“What do you want to do with our toy?” he asks, looking at her.

She sips her water before walking over them, rubbing Junior’s face. She tugs at his pants, unbuckling them and removing it, leaving him with a growing tent in his underwear. She touches it, making him flinch before kissing his cheek.

“I want to see how he blew you. Wondering if he did a good job.” she said, kneeling down to her knees.

Terrance moans, letting Junior go and begins removing his clothes. Valerie motions Junior to kiss her on the neck, in which he does as she gently slides her hand into his underwear.

“Wow. You’re very hard and submissive.” she mumbled, gently stroking his length, making him moan quietly.

After throwing his underwear to the side, Terrance stands in front the duo, stroking his length as Valerie removes her hand, gently wrapping it around his length.

“Ladies first.” said Junior, making all three of them laugh.

Moving herself in position, she engulfs him into her mouth, earning a loud groan from Terrance. She grabs Junior’s hands and places them on her hair, signaling him to hold it. She continues sucking him, gently massaging his balls as she strokes the rest, keeping her eyes up at Terrance. Junior watches intensely, feeling warmth growing inside of him.

“You wanna make Hen happy? Let her take control in the bedroom.” said Terrance, groaning immediately as Valerie takes him out, catching her breath.

She moves back, letting Junior get in her position. Terrance lifts his face up, tapping the side of his mouth to signal ‘open’, which he does, sticking his tongue. He taps his tip on it, rubbing it for a few moments before sliding into his mouth, using his head as leverage as he begins fucking it. Junior, taken aback by the move, placing his hands on his thighs to push back, but receives a hard slap on his ass from Valerie.

“Put them down. Just breathe through your nose and keep your balance.” she says, pushing his arms down.

Terrance begins moving his hips forward, carefully going a sluggish pace as Junior tries to keep his balance, but pulls away, coughing very hard. Valerie laughs, standing next to him.

“Watch me.” she says, inserting Terrance’s length back into her mouth, but removing her hands.

He resumes his pace, with the sounds of her slurping and gagging filling up the room. She stops him, catching her breath. She gently strokes him as she guides Junior to his length by his neck.

“Do what I did. Just without falling or choking.” she whispers, inserting Terrence’s length into his mouth.

Junior focuses on breathing and keeping himself up as he matches his aggressive pace, hearing him moan loudly as he hits the back of his throat a few times. Valerie watches, aroused by him pleasuring her husband with his mouth.

Noticing how close Terrance was to his release, she removes his length from his mouth, making him exhale hard. He leans down to kiss her passionately before doing the same to Junior.

“Where do you want us next?” asked Terrance, looking at Valerie.

She points at the bed with her head before getting up to lay on it. The men followed, each sitting on one side of her: Junior on her right and Terrance on her left. She pulls the both men into a big kiss before moving each one to one of her breasts, in which both begin to suck, nibbling a bit.

“Fuck, that feels so good.” she moans, rubbing their heads.

Terrance begins kissing down to her pussy, rubs his hands over the lace as he looks up at Junior, who is now fondling her other breast with his hand.

“Baby, can you blow him for me as I devour you?” he asks, tracing Junior’s shoulder.

She nods as she gently removes him from her breasts, lies down on the bed, with her legs opening up for him as she ushers Junior into standing up in front of her. As she pulls down his underwear, his hard length bounces out, making her let out a gasp.

“Oh, you been waiting…” she says, wrapping her hands around it, gently stroking and placing kisses on it, making him close his eyes and groan at the sensation.

“Eyes on me, Junior.” she said, sliding her underwear down as Terrance removes it, propping her legs on his shoulders before licking her slit, making her flinch.

“You’re tense, huh?” he asked, looking at her before sucking her clit.

She lets out a few moans before engulfing Junior’s length into her mouth, stroking the rest that couldn’t fit. She places one of his hands on one of her breasts, signaling him to fondle it as Terrance inserts two fingers inside, gently plumping in and out of her.

The sounds of Junior’s moaning, Valerie’s gagging, and Terrance’s slurping fills the room as both Junior and Valerie feel their release building. Valerie pushes Terrance’s head down deeper as she gently massages Junior’s balls to add to the feeling.

Just as Junior was almost close, she releases his length from her mouth, watching it move up and down as the latter catches his breath.

“Is this what y’all meant?” he asks, falling next to her on the bed.

“Mmmhmm.” is all she could get out as Terrance sped up his pace, rubbing her clit while licking it.

After letting out a few more moans, she came very hard, wetting more of his face with her essence as she shooked under his hold. Letting out a pop! sound, he gets up, wiping his face before sucking off his fingers. He leans down and kisses her, biting her lip in the process.

“What’s our next order?” he asks.

“I want…I want you to fuck him.” she said exhaustively, tapping Junior’s leg.

Junior laughed before turning on his stomach, getting on his knees as Terrance retreats to retrieve a condom. Valerie looks up at him, who looks down at her.

“Remember: just breathe and don’t lost your balance…..unless the pain doesn’t simmer.” she said, touching his face.

He nods as Terrance returned, with a condom wrapped around his length and lube. He fixes his position, placing a pillow under his chest as he arched Junior’s back a little more. Lightly slapping his ass, he squeezes some lube on his hole, spreading it with his tip, watching it clench a few times.

“You begging for me real bad, huh..” he mumbled, gently poking at it.

“Don’t do that…..you’re gonna make me cum quickly.” Junior whines, trying to pull away, but receives a hard slap on his right cheek, making him let out a muffled yelp.

“Fix your posture. Don’t make me tell you again.”

Junior obliged, moving back towards him as he lined himself at his entrance. Holding his hips with one hand as the other inserts his length inside carefully, they both let out a loud groan, with Terrance leaning himself over him.

“Breathe, breathe, breathe.” whispered Valerie into Junior’s ear, rubbing his back as he let outs harsh breaths.

Terrance moved his hips a bit to fill in more, making Junior tense up bit. He pulls out, kneels down and begins to trace his hole with his tongue, giving him good licks, making him press backwards.

“Fuck…” mumbled Junior, not used to feeling this amazing pleasure, but it being done by a man. Boy, he hopes Hen never finds out about this.

Valerie gently kisses his back, locking eyes with Terrance, who is very focused on stretching Junior out. He stops, pushes him back gently, and re-inserts himself, this time fully inside. He begins a canny pace, smacking his ass with his pelvis.

“Is that the best you can do?” he asks, looking slightly at Terrance, who has an animality look on his face.

“You want that?” he replied, smiling with an evil smirk.

“…do it. Don’t be a pussy in front of her.”

Valerie’s jaw drops, holding in a laugh as she removed herself from his back. Oh, he definitely set something off in him because suddenly, Terrance grabs his neck to pull him towards his chest and begins going at a rapid pace, thrusting very hard.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” is all he could get out, feeling Terrance squeezing his neck hard, grunting loud in his ear.

“That’s it. Submit. To. Me!” he says, shoving Junior down to the bed, continuing his brutal pounding.

Junior’s moans fill the room as he fills himself building up again, clenching around him.

“It’s too much, please.” he whines, trying to push him back but gets his arms put in a hold, making him let out an evil laugh.

“Nah, be a good toy and taking it like a good one should.” he says, slapping his ass a few times.

As Terrance gives him a few more thrusts, he pulls out, preventing him and his own release and falls into the chair. Junior winces, once again being denied as the men catch their breaths. A few moments later, he gets flipped onto his back, feeling a condom being wrapped around his member.

“What’s next?” he asks weakly.

“Turn on your side.” said Valerie, pecking his nose.

He does so, placing a pillow under him as Valerie lays in front, her back facing him. She grabs one of his hands and places it on her rib as she moves the other one under her leg, hooking it. She takes his length and inserts it in her pussy, both letting out groans.

“Match his pace. Don’t go too rough.” she said, moving his hand to her neck.

Junior begins thrusting his hips in a snappily motion, his balls slapping her lips. She lets out a slew of moans and gasps, gently rubbing her clit. He squeezes her neck tightly, picking up his pace.

“You like that? Being fucked in front of your husband after he just got done fucking me?” he whispered, earning a audible moan from her as he locked eyes with Terrance, who is stroking him.

She turns her head to passionately make out with him, with him continuing his thrusts. Unknownst to them, Terrance gets up, lays behind Junior, and re-enters from behind, making him groan and stop.

“Nah, don’t stop. Come on.” he slaps his ass. “Continue.” as he thrusts into him.

Junior resumes, matching each thrust as he hits Valerie’s sweet spot consistently, making her let out some tearful moans. Terrance smirks, placing wet kisses all over his shoulder.

“There you go….fighting back a bit.”

“You close?”

“No. You?”

“Almost. She can’t stop clenching around me.”

“She’s close too.”

Valerie laughs hoarsely as both pick up their pace, sloppily thrusting into each other. After a few more thrusts, the trio all cum simultaneously, with Valerie shaking and squirting under Junior as both him and Terrance fill up their condoms. All catching their breaths as Terrance removes himself from Junior, with the latter removing himself from Valerie.

“..We..we’re not done, are we?” asked Junior, looking between the couple.

Both shake their heads, making Junior chuckle weakly. Terrance gets up, grabs a sip of wine before removing his semen filled condom, tossing it in the trash. He picks up Valerie and places her on top of Junior, gently reinserting his length inside of her.

“Fuck.” she whined.

“Hold still.” said Terrance, fixing their position.

Then, he inserts himself inside her, making her groan and shoot up as Junior gasps, not knowing they were both gonna fuck her inside at once.

“Wait, doesn’t this hurt?” Junior asked in a worrying tone.

She looks down at him, tears in her eyes. She shakes her head, smiling at him with a mesmerized expression. Oh my god, we broke her he said in his mind.

“No. He just remembered a fantasy I told him about.” she said, before turning to give him a kiss.

Terrance kisses her back before turn her forward, pushing her down before he started to pound her, earning some vulgar sounds from her that mixed in with her wetness. Junior watched, seeing her enjoy being dominated as she’s on top of him.

“Hey.” he said, lightly slapping Junior’s face. “Just because I’m up doing my job, doesn’t mean you can sit back and enjoy. Start moving those hips.”

Junior obliged, pumping his hips upwards as she wrapped her hands around his neck, keeping her balance up. Terrance grabs her hair, making her arch her back.

“Look at you. Taking me and him very hungrily. You wanted this to happen, didn’t you?”

“Mmhm.” she said, earning a hard slap on her ass, making her yelp.

“When I ask you a question, I expect an answer, not a sound. So let me ask you again: you wanted this to happen, didn’t you?” he asks again, giving her deep thrusts.

“Yes! Ever since that night he was watching us!” she responded, squeezing Junior’s neck, making him moan.

“Look at you two. Both sharing me while all over each other. You think I wouldn’t notice?”

“No. No, sir.” said Junior, grunting as he feels himself getting ready to release again. Terrance smirks, leaning forward to topple over Valerie, speeding up his pace.

“Good job, toy. Now help me make her cum again.” he says, kissing on her neck.

The men continuously hit Valerie’s sweet spot, making her clench and moan loudly as she eagerly attempts to keep up, but failing as her body started to tense up.

Junior pulls out, removing his semen filled condom to stroke himself, doing this until his expletive filled release came, shooting on him and Valerie’s thighs. Terrance’s luscious release follows behind, releasing his load deeply inside, making Valerie meet her euphoric release a few moments later.

The trio kisses each other one last time before collapsing on the bed, catching their breaths. After a few minutes, Terrance get up and walks out of the room, leaving the door open to hear water running from the bathroom. Coming back in with a bowl and towels, he gently wipes both of them, getting rid of the sweat and fluids that are all over their bodies before doing it to himself. Valerie looks at Junior, who begins to fall asleep.

“….we wore your ass out, huh?” asked Valerie, rubbing his face.

“Mmhm.” he said, slowly falling asleep.

Terrance lays next to her, kissing her shoulder as he wrapped his arms around her.

“How you feel?” he asks.

“Pleased. Exhausted. A little worried she may have heard us.”

“She won’t know. And he’ll forget when I erase the memories. This only happened between just the two of us.”

“Or three if you wanna be technical.”

Terrance smiles before kissing her, falling asleep as Valerie looked at the door. She thought to herself what if she was actually listening and is planning to snitch, but erased it from her mind, thinking we can say she was very drunk and probably imagined it before falling asleep.

🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲

A/N II: Its been a really rough week, so I’m glad I finished this. Before someone asks, no. Black Velvet did not play in Foe. I just don’t know the name of the song Hen puts on after I’m New Here.

Part 4 (the Finale) will be out mid-month as I am too depressed from the elections to write it. Stay safe everyone, especially the ones living in the red states/about to suffer if you international. And go to hell if you voted for him!

Taglist: @urfavblackbimbo @blyffe @literallegendicon @kimuzostar @aaronpdaily

[psychhound]

i just happened to have read a chapter recently called 'the positive negative experience in extreme role-playing' by markus montola that really hits a lot of these points from the academic side of things

montola talks about the "positive negative experience" in which rpers experience extremely challenging and distressing emotions during the session of roleplay, but later look back at the experience as positive and worthwhile. in fact, the majority of the people who intentionally engage in extreme roleplaying dont regret the choice afterward

extreme roleplaying mainly occurs in games that intentionally create player bleed. for those unfamiliar, bleed is the process of the character's thoughts and feelings influencing the player and vice versa. bleed in is when the player and the real world affect how the character is played and their actions. bleed out is when circumstances in game come into the real world to affect the player

some people and some games intentionally try to invoke bleed for a more intense experience, called "playing for bleed". often, the positive negative experience is an example of extreme bleed that creates exploration, reflection, bonding, and catharsis

being informed of content, themes, and triggers is often an important part of the consent process in extreme roleplaying, though at least in this study it didn't seem like safety tools were often used once the session starts. players want to be able to feel the horrible feelings and then "endure through the game to not be denied the feelings of completion and triumph of surviving through it” (p. 163)

another important part of extreme roleplaying is debriefing afterwards, ideally right after the session and then again in the days afterward. several interviewees in the study said that was really vital for them

a friend said he wanted to play bluebeards bride and then i read this chapter and then this post crossed my dash within like a day of each other :) kismet

(cws for the chapter: sexism, murder, cannibalism, and sexual assault within the games discussion)

further reading:

why people play tabletop role-playing games: a grounded theory of becoming as motivation

roll for insight: understanding how the experience of playing dungeons & dragons impacts the mental health of the average player

psychology and role-playing games

a game where we hurt each other

Last month, I played perhaps the most intense TTRPG session of my life as part of the Dream Library’s discussion of Bluebeard’s Bride, a game of “feminist horror” (more on this later) published by Magpie in a gorgeous print edition. Over the course of the month of October my guest lecturer/collaborator @marvelousmsmolly I collectively hosted three sessions of what was by far the most challenging game the Dream Library has ever discussed. 

We came to Bluebeard as the second part of our fall semester covering games of intimacy and monstrosity — a unit which began in September with Avery Alder’s Monsterhearts 2 and is continuing this month with Vampire: The Masquerade (If you want to get in on the VTM discussion and future semesters, please, come join). Both Molly and I suspected that Bluebeard was going to be both a quieter month and a riskier text — but opted to play through it anyway, albeit with some tools in place to make sure everyone knew what they were getting into with a book that doesn’t pull many punches. And with all that, the first two sessions went... fine? We had some lumpy pacing, some conflicting styles of play, some questions about how a game that really seems to encourage player bleed can possibly be played online, but for the most part things were fine. Not great, not bad — not worth the anxiety we’d had about them.

And “fine,” of course, doesn’t make for interesting conversations, so Molly and I took a step back. We talked about what was going wrong: a sense that neither of us quite felt comfortable hitting hard enough, even though we asked players ahead of time and at the start of sessions to tell us what was off the table. A frustration that player choice had trended towards the Bride as a detective/hero and not someone embodied in a world of horror. A confusion — once again — over what it means to “shiver with terror” in a discord call with some friends online. Out of that conversation came a new idea: rather than two more one-shots, Molly took some time to charge up a spirit bomb and put together some more formal prep, then recruited a group she felt could get together for a more curated experience. She wrote up her own excellent thoughts on what went down — along with a lot of session details — but you’ll have to join the Dream Library for that. 

The result of all that curation and preparation was that on October 23rd a group of four trans women — Molly, @jdragsky, our friend Mars, and I — sat down to play Bluebeard’s Bride knowing exactly what we were in for. We would be playing a transfem Bride, Bluebeard would be cis, and we would be hitting transfem-specific horror as hard as we possibly could. 

I’m going to quote from Molly’s reflection, where she wrote:

“Another really great aspect of running this game for this table is there was such a clear feeling that we all understood, wordlessly, what was going on... There are some moments in Allison Rumfitt’s gothic horror novel ‘Tell Me I’m Worthless’ where it felt like the author, a trans woman, was dropping phrases knowing exactly how her transfem audience would react... This had a twofold effect of both giving the players a chilling moment but also, a very brief but appropriate separation between fiction and player where could all grimace and be together in that discomfort before pushing on. People knew what I was doing. The problem with the original game is it doesn’t really want to discuss the politics of what “feminine horror” means. Because of this you’re really lacking some focus. I think a table of cis women could actually play bluebeard’s bride in the way we did last night and have it hit hard for them if they approached it correctly, I don’t think our experience was uniquely elevated by our trans reading, however that was one of several tools we used for that elevation.”

Setting aside the strengths and weaknesses of the original text, that sense of shared experience was key to our game and key to allowing us to hit — and get hit — really hard and trust that our coplayers were there with us. Compared to our earlier efforts (prioritizing safety by taking things off the table via lines/veils) tightening the topical scope from an ambiguous “feminist horror” to a specific transfeminist horror in the context of a chaser bf, in the context of an economic disparity, in the context of the medical pressures of transition in the contemporary U.K. allowed Molly, our lovely host, to hurt us knowing that we were all in it together and choosing to play this game. It transformed the horror from an obstacle in an adventure game into a thing we were seeking out: a pleasure/pain we asked to feel. 

In a games discourse that is — understandably — interested in protections which might be implemented anywhere, including at cons and home tables with much less of an art-and-politics interest, safety tools are often thought about as a negative thing, a preemptive cutting away of all the things which might end up hurting us. I think that’s part of why people can have a hard time filling out a lines/veils list in advance of a session. What are all the things in the world I’m sensitive to? What are all the contexts in which I’m sensitive to them? Good sensitive or bad sensitive? Sensitive enough to cause a scene? Sensitive enough to make it off the table? 

In place of that — and in a table with a really remarkable amount of trust — this final Bluebeard session leaned in, hard, to the things that hurt us. That was the game. Molly wrote a lot about kink in her reflection, and I think she was right to do that. The point of the game was to hurt each other and to feel, and it was a better game for keeping that in mind. It was an actual horror game, and not just a game with horror aesthetics. I agree with Molly that there was nothing essential about having an all-transfem table — I think what we did could be done by anyone, even with the base Bluebeard’s Bride. What was essential was having a table where we all trusted each other enough to play a hurting game and to know that we were there on purpose. It elevated Bluebeard’s Bride into a really fascinating, messy experience — one I can’t wait to play again.

[superscourge]

Before the Storm [AU drabble]

Summary: An AU where Tails is killed thanks to one of Eggman's plans going sideways, and Sonic goes off the deep end because of it. Shadow confronts him before he does something he'll regret.

Words: 891

TW: Major character death (implied)

Notes: wheeeee i dont think ive posted any sonic-related writing here before??? so this is um. scary. LOL. but i hope it's at least an interesting read <3 dont kill me im just a little guy ok

--

“What do you even think you're doing here, hedgehog?”

Sonic stopped in his tracks with a stomp when he was addressed. He didn’t turn to look at who had spoken; he knew instantly just from the voice. 

“What’s it look like?” he responded. “I’m avenging Tails. That's all there is to it. If you have an issue, then feel free to let me know once I'm done.”

Behind him, about twenty or so feet away, stood Shadow. He stared coldly at the other hedgehog. “You know I’m not going to just stand aside and let you do this, right?”

“Yeah, I figured.” Sonic shook his head a little. “I don’t get why not, though.”

Shadow narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean by that?”

Sonic finally turned to face his rival, and when the two gazes met, Shadow could feel a chill slither up his spine. This…wasn’t Sonic. Not anymore.

“You lost someone important to you, right?”

Shadow’s ears perked. He wasn’t… Was he?

“She was taken from you, even. She didn't deserve it. She wasn't ready.” Sonic stared back at him, almost seeming to challenge him to deny it. “And neither were you.”

Shadow remained silent. He didn’t say a word, his expression unreadable. Sonic, figuring he’d caught him, just continued to speak. “So, I don’t get how you’re not on my side. You know what this situation is like. You lived it. You even tried to destroy the world because of it.” He waved his hand a little. “So why shouldn’t–”

“Let me tell you something.”

Sonic paused once he was interrupted. Across the way, Shadow’s expression suddenly became a bit more clear. He was angry. More than that, really–he was seething.

“The difference between our situations is that while, yes, I did act out of anger and grief and aimed to destroy the world with it, I did it because I thought that’s what she would have wanted.” He let that statement sink in for just a moment before he continued. “I’ve since come to realize that this wasn’t the case at all.”

Sonic’s ears folded back the longer the other went on, but Shadow didn’t let up. In fact, he began to step forward as he spoke.

“You’re right. I do know what it’s like to lose someone dear to me. I do know what it’s like to have someone who could light up the room with their presence alone, have their light be extinguished prematurely. And I do know what it’s like to want to end everything and everyone because of that loss.” He stopped approaching once he was only a couple feet away. “But, do you know the difference between you and me, Sonic? The true difference between our situations?”

He didn’t allow Sonic to respond even if he had wanted to. Instead, Shadow leaned in a little closer, his voice dripping with venom as he nearly spoke through his teeth. “I was able to get it through my head that that wasn’t what she wanted. I was able to pull myself together and not let myself succumb to my own misguided idea of how I was supposed to deal with my loss and grief.” He narrowed his eyes, then. “I was able to accept that causing others to suffer in her stead would not bring her back. Nothing would. And you haven’t accepted any of that.”

Something in Sonic’s chest twisted into a tight knot. His nose scrunched up into a slight snarl as he glared back at Shadow, fists clenched at his sides.

“You’re wrong,” Sonic spat back finally. “You really don’t get it after all. You gave up. You could have gotten them back for what they did to her, but you didn’t. You let them get away with it.” 

The icy look in his eyes told Shadow that his words had gone in one ear and right out the other. He wasn’t going to get through to him.

“So, I guess we are different, yeah. You chose to let Maria’s killers off the hook.” Sonic took a couple steps back. “I’m not making that same mistake.”

Shadow watched him for a few moments, trying to find some sort of sign that this was salvageable. He didn’t want to take drastic measures to stop a disaster from happening…but, this was Sonic. Drastic measures were par for the course when he was involved.

With a resigned sigh, Shadow began to back away as well. He had no intention of leaving, though. Now, he had a mission. “I see.”

Reaching up, he gently grasped the inhibitor ring on his wrist. He didn’t unclasp it–not yet. He was going to give Sonic one last chance to walk away from this. He could see Sonic’s eyes shift to look at the inhibitors before meeting his gaze once again, and he could tell just by that look that he still wasn’t going to back down. So…he supposed that was that.

“There is one thing about you that hasn’t changed, at least,” he noted, finally clicking off the inhibitor. He knew this would be an uphill battle despite the course of action he was going to take. 

“You still don’t know when to quit.”

[adhd-community]

i'm hyperverbal, and my partner is easily overwhelmed by too much talking. i have a hard time even processing a thought until i've said it out loud, though. if i don't talk myself through it, i just get stuck and say nothing. not to mention, i have a hard time deciding what's actually worth saying out loud until i've said it. how can i talk to my partner while,,, talking less?

It's all about finding ways to exist together that support both of your needs. I am reading that your partner has noted they find a lot of chat overwhelming and you tend to chat a lot and struggle to know when or how to stop/start (somehow I identify with both of these...).

The first two questions are:

What is it that your partner finds overwhelming? Too many thoughts verbalised too quickly? The noise? Trying to follow the conversation? Do the reasons change from time to time?

Why are you chatting? Are you looking for connection? Reassurance? Is it accidental? Do these reasons sometimes change?

Understanding yourself and each other can be REALLY helpful in these situations in order to work out what will meet both your needs.

Finally for some hypertalkitivity tips, some things that have helped me in the past with situations like these are:

Before launching into something you're thinking about, check in with the other person on whether they are up for a chat, or whether they would prefer a little quiet time. If they need quiet time, respect that (it's not a rejection, I promise) and find another outlet for your energy/thoughts.*

Make sure you and your partner are on the same page about why you're talking and what level of engagement is needed from them. I had this issue with a friend while travelling (I chat while packing and they were getting overwhelmed). We talked about it and I explained that when this happens I don't need (or expect) them to actually listen, at most it would be nice if they occasionally said "hmm good question" or "mmmm" so I didnt feel lonely or get distracted. This isn't something they need so they had thought I wanted them to deeply listen and answer questions each time and were understandably EXHAUSTED. This convo, and following "heads up, I'm doing the thing - let me know if you need quiet time" chats avoided a lot of potential tension!

If you are having trouble with impulsively talking, find something that tends to help you have "quiet time". For me this is listening to something through headphones that I dont need to pay too much attention to or actually "watch" but still find really enjoyable (e.g. podcasts or super-long game-plays (thank you Jacksepticeye amiright?)) For some reason this signals "no talking" to my brain and I can quietly focus in other things - find yours!

Take a few deep breaths and talk a little slower. When ADHDers are hypertalkative and REALLY into a thought, it can be... intense. Passion is wonderful but taking a second to recognise that your partner is probs also having several thoughts/their own experience and it will take them a second to adjust is always appreciated.

*Other possible outlets for your energy/thoughts!

Write it in a notebook

Type it out or speak it to an AI chatbot!

Call a friend or family member

Do something physical to reduce the mental restlessness (this can be exercise, or even just doing some dishes or gardening etc - just something that makes your brain feel less like it needs to work out everything in the world RIGHT NOW)

Try a guided meditation to slow your thoughts

In the end only you and your partner will be able to work out what's best for you both, but I hope this has helped!

Remember that just because they don't want to chat right now does NOT mean they don't want to hear your thoughts at all. It's likely they just need to recharge their social batteries so that they can have cute chats and fun times later.

X

[bucked-it-up]

I finally have some time and think about what happened in the episode and also in a way this season as a whole. This is probably going to be a ramble mess and I’m sure i will get some info incorrect as i am mainly doing this off of memory, i also haven’t fully read the post episode interviews but i know the gist of them. Now with that disclaimer out of the way I’m gonna just blurt my feelings out.

One. I want to start that personally for me the season has felt off from the beginning but particularly from after the opening episodes, i felt like the pacing was off and disjointed. I enjoyed the episodes don’t get me wrong but yeah something just has felt off for me writing wise, everything seemingly has been resolved quicker and easier than i think anyone thought it would be

Two. Might as well get into the meat of why i am rambling about my feelings. 806. Well it was certainly an episode. The miceli bucktomy scene that we have all looked forward to since we knew it was happening just immediately felt off. It was their 6 months? But yet Tommy seemingly got buck a present that didn’t fit what he has said about basketball at all in the past and to me felt dismissive as i was watching it. Buck taking a picture of the girls felt odd to me the tension about it idk just wasn’t for me but that part of the conversation could have led to interesting turmoil and lead to more stability. The Abby of this part. My first reaction was Ew. I was never one for the spec that Tommy was Abby’s ex never felt right and didn’t click but I would’ve been okay with it if it was handled differently. Tommy felt dismissive towards why Abby would be upset about a 2 year Relationship where they were engaged, like she had every right to be hurt and react maybe in a way you didn’t expect or like. While this led to a good speech from josh and gave buck the information he needed to know he would be happy in the relationship even if tommy had been with Abby and he understood why tommy did what he did or at least accepted it.

Three. The Break Up. WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT! They both express a want for a long term relationship and tommy decides that no that’s not what buck wants? And it also feels like it goes against him wanting a family somewhere to be and they were showing that he was becoming a part of it in 805. Just what was the characterisation in that scene? They weren’t the buck and tommy i know. Him saying buck? Like fuck you writers. You could have written a break up in so much more of a respectful way, handled it so much more respectfully not apparently doing 805 the way it was just to make 806 hurt worse. You had such a beautiful peace of representation on your hands and you just fucked it up.

Four. What i know of about the interviews. As said above ive not read them. I’m not in the right place to right now but i do know the gist of them. Why do you want buck’s character development to just fall back to season 1 buck, Oliver? Why? Tell me why it would make sense. Buck has shown longing for a long term relationship from the first hook up of the show. He didn’t sleep around after Abby who was his first transformative relationship as he said and tommy was he second major one again something that buck said. So why Oliver would he choose to fuck around? Why?

Five. The Eddie and Buck scene at the end. I will admit i didn’t properly watch it because i was too sad and that scene felt like someone had just rubbed a whole load of salt in the wound. I find out then from my friend that they had buck come over to eddies while he’s doing that pantless dancing and has shaved. Feels like bvddie ship bait not gonna lie. Would buck go to Eddie after a break up? Yes he would they are best friends why wouldn’t buck go there. But why couldn’t the scene be different, have it come at it from a different way.

Six. I dont know if I’m going to carry on watching the show, i have no nope for bucktommy coming back but if you do I’m really happy for you sincerely i would like some of that hope tbh. If i do watch it i will probably watch it after hearing spoilers.

Finally, I’m not reading this through so pls ignore any small mistakes but if you do want to correct me on something please do it kindly and politely. I love you all, my inbox is open if you need to rant somewhere and please take care of yourselves.

[luv-beam]

i am so fucking upset I AM SO FUCKING UPSET . i cannot convey how absolutely devastated i am like im sitting here in the dark unable to fully convey KANFKDNFKFJFJFNFN AHHHSHFJRJGKKGKGKFKFKFKFKGKFK

okok im sorry i do have some things to say as general statements abt my experience and ur skills before we get into some of the nitty gritty 😭 but first off, moni, i am ashamed to say i somehow missed that u dedicated this to me. i am so so sorry for not seeing it for some awful reason, but pls know that i am so honored—like beyond honored and appreciative. u r crazy good at ur craft and i am so happy ur posting ur fiction for us to read :'))

also, i def mentioned it in my notes below, but i loooove the film quality of your writing. like the i could see the color shifts. OH MY GOD I ALSO DIDNT TALK ABT THE RELATION OF WINTER TO THE SENEFNKRNFJT TO THE END IM UPSET AGAIN i literally cannot. u have a talent for coaxing me to hand over my heart and then watching u squeeze it :')))) im upset :')))) ur really too good and i... im biting my knuckles and struggling to type bc i wanna cry

thank u for this. i know u say this fic is something ur most proud of, and that is incredibly well merited. like oh my god. i can't right now i kind of just want to cry

also, before i put my notes below, i wanted to include the songs i listened to during this and i think i def picked an appropriate playlist skfnekfn: they see me dream (tbz), future me (hailey knox), dream launch (wayv), wings (tbz), smiling thru. (slchld), square one (tbz), someday faraway (labit), empty box (atz), same dream, same mind, same night (svt), 111 (thuy), the race (chris james), heaven - acoustic (onerepublic), raise y_our glass (huh yunjin)

omg i do have to comment on the presence of two of my like,, "older brother" figure idols uji and namjoon ekfnkrnf i always imagine them in that kind of way so the vibe just feels all the more warm haha (despite the hazy sleep-deprived solidarity going on dkgnjrnf)

WAIT.... THE CONVENIENCE STORE FROM THE TEASER... OH NO.

IT RESEMBLES UR BED AFTER A LONG DAY OF WORK BUT IT DOESNT LIVE UP TO HIM?? im devastated in two sentences

the picking your fingers until blood spills is such a great humanizing detail

still, the lilacs have yet to bloom.

omg im such a sucker for flower symbolism,, this feels like a low-key reference to feelings between u and changmin? OH I SEE THEY DINT EVEN KNOW EACH OTHER YET SKFNDKFN THIS CHANGES THINGS

PLS THE "im sure they wouldn't mind working w u" ASSIGNED PAIRINGS IS SOOOOOO im getting ptsd from middle school 😭😭 that feeling of everyone knowing someone and ur just kind of alone, knowing no one will likely come to u themselves,,, but changmin... tsk tsk i have a feeling abt you....... IM ONTO U SIR

you look back at changmin; he’s still looking at you. ; (you’re still thinking about the dips in his cheeks.)

IM ONTO U JI CHANGMIN (also so real tho... his dimples are like... meant to be the centerpiece of an art gallery)

KUMON. (i mercifully never had to face that, but maybe that's why i fkn suck at math today 💀)

oh no....

i swear this is related, but im listening to wayv's dream launch and reading this part in particular w the song is so... i feel so emo rn like its okay yn-bear... you'll be okay i swear, i know it sucks now but one day ur dreams will come true even if its hard to detach ourselves from our parents' expectations and influences

also the imagery here is so visceral and vivid... like i can see it in my mind, the way you're so used to the feeling, but u still shake them off anyway bc u dont want them to linger; u can't breathe w them there, so /present/

don’t you think that some of the stories that we read hold fragments of someone?

i love this line and totally agree w this

also wanted to add that changmin trying to coax this info out of them is so :(( i love him

AWH WAIT PAPERCUT ART AND FORMING IMAGES OUT OF THEM SUCH A COOL IDEA its like the deletion(?) poetry where u take a piece of text and blot out all words except for certain ones to form poetry?

the idol comment,,, the fourth wall is shaking

OMG THE PIC???? SO GOOD WHAT I LOVE THIS AND AS A VISUAL AID/SUPPLEMENT TOO?? omg and ending this section w the single lilac having bloomed TT ugh i love callbacks to symbols

your tastebuds long for cheongju.

baaaaaanger line

jongseobs characterization >>> I LOOOVE IMPISH YOUNGER SIBLING CODED CHARACTERS

still, you stand in the middle of the mart and your heart longs for home.

and this one too ^ i feel this. the exhaustion and yearning that settles in your bones until ur convinced emotion really does carry tangible weight i love longing-for-homeisms

you and changmin were once painted with the hues of the sun. this reunion is tainted with blue.

I CHOKED. also i would like to comment on the delicious pacing of this past scene from when u realize who's standing right next to u and how the world seems to rush back toward the present from the past and ur frantic and slapping money into jongseobs palms and then—"yn?"—world stop. IIIIINHALES .. SCREAMS SO GOOD

love the blue stain over my view btw

idk how to feel abt the grape flavor being yns favorite 🧍🏻‍♀️ u do u tho

THIS???????? THIS!!!!!!! what did u deserve to know just feels so right in this situation,, when you've fallen out of touch who used to be ur world—when u r no longer their world or in their world, how much should you reveal? do they still care? where is the line drawn now?

if you miss home, why is your first instinct to run away from it?

im tearing at the walls. i am unfortunately devastated by this question. home is such a... its a complicated thing for so many people.

the black limbs slowly ate away at your heart; the void was born.

THEYRE BACK but now, instead of simply curling arounf ur heart, they're digging their nails into it and ripping chunks of it away

the lingering feelings of envy and resentment of changmins home life versus yns is so... like i think it adds such an important layer of nuance to their relationship

because you still wanted more for him than you did for yourself.

OH MY GOD

oh my god

AND THE DISTANCE FEELS GREATER NOW.. oh my god... the silence and the negative space r so loud... oh my god.....

the contrast to the next segment in summer is so staggering dkgndjnfnf also congrats to them for levelling up in friendship to calling each other fuckers!! LMFAO i adore their little back n forth here haha their arguing over the phone, to arguing over popsicle flavors

LOVEBIRDS SKCNDKFNKFNXKDKKDKD

astrophysics is cool when someone on yt is explaining it in layman's terms or ur in the space.com website, but not when ur looking at all those nightmarish equations... *shudders violently*

from that day on, you’ve learned to keep his name out of conversations. you’ll enjoy what you have with changmin, even if it has to be kept under the wraps.

in a way, this is like a form of protection, not only protecting ur own freedom and agency but akso protecting the person who has wormed his way into ur life and is determined to stay,, someone who seems to be the one good thing happening to u at that moment

im so... i wish i could sit yn down and give them a hug and a pep talk. they do know how to persevere. they're literally pushing thru right now

FINGER TRAP FINGER TRAP TITLE MENTIONED THIS IS NOT A DRILL

omg THE PROFILES SJCBDJFN THEYRE GONNA BE INTERVIEWING OUR BOYZ DJFBKDNCKDNF i am Howling at the moon

THIS??? IS FUCKING EVERYTHING???????? the different colors of cheongju seep thru gaaaaaaawd the careful wall you've built to rpetend ur past is behind u has now returned to remind u that it does, in fact, still exist. it will not hesitate to break ur bubble of present reality

i have a violent urge to throttle a couple who are poor excuses for parents

also just bringing in the murky waters rising and drowning u and filling ur lungs is just as compelling and visceral through this section. like u described it perfectly well, how when ur starting to lose oxygen, your chest burns and its slow but throbbing

are you nothing but an array of achievements and failures?

aren't we all though? :(

NOW UR HOME IS CHANGMIN.

i love just imagining ur writing like a movie, like this part in particular u can just kind of envision these things flicking across the screen chuchuchuchu—back to the present. finger traps.... clinging onto those fragments of the past... when u try to rip your fingers out of a finger trap, it grips onto u tighter; a slow withdrawal is the only way to escape... oh god

WHY DOES IT FEEL LIKE ONE OF DESTINY x2 I SEE U MONI I SEE YOU.

HE WAS THE ONE OUTSIDE THE BATHROOM IM GONNA GNAW MY FINGERS OFF

im very slow today but the incorporation of all four szns into the sections of this fic is like mwah MWAHMWAHMWAH and hE CANT WAIT TO SHARE THIS SZN W U?? IM YELLING??? ugh i think im too single.

dude my heart dropped into my ass . what r these fuckass parents doing

WHAT NINONOENFOFNFJFJ NO WHAT MONI STOP NO U CANT JUST LET THE CAR GO NO HE'S RIGHT THERE NO NONONOSNFJDNFJFJ im having a crisis no WHAT

. oh my god

Oh my god that hurts. Oh my god i cant im so

im

oh im so upset they never got closure they never got to say goodbye ur right the only way to get out of a finger trap is thru a slow withdrawal—unless the connections is severed so forcefully, it just breaks .

oh my god

i dont wanna read this interview im so upset

im so fucking upset.

finger trapped (ripped to its seams) ➵ ji changmin

ji changmin x reader

with an unexpected reunion, you and changmin relive the memories of cheongju—and confront what could’ve been between you two.

general genre/warnings ➵ friends to almost lovers, angst, fluff, gender neutral reader, some depressive and insecure thoughts, hurt/comfort, the last five years story-telling method (aka present will be told going backwards while past will be told moving forward... i hope that makes sense), brief mention of blood from picking on your skin, tiger parents so... parental issues, unexpected reunion, keeping secrets & lying, jealousy remains but love triumphs, journalist reader (u kno i had to do it), reader is a nerd and changmin is a student-athlete, kms jokes from jongseob (all /lh), finger traps aren’t efficient after all

word count ➵ 15.7k words

playlist ➵ end of beginning by djo // high school in jakarta by niki // i know it won't work by gracie abrams // no big deal (i love you) by dodie // keeping tabs by niki // no one knows by stephen sanchez & laufey // so what now by reneé rapp // i wish i hated you by ariana grande // the 1 by taylor swift // seasons by wave to earth

a/n ➵ it's finally out! this is my submission for @deoboyznet's the love letter collective event! this work is so so personal to me on so many levels so i hope you all love and treat this fic with care :')) for the bitches who struggle with parents and dreams.... this one's for you (i am in the same boat) i appreciate everyone who's been so patient and looking forward to this fic's release. i'd like to thank @hcuyk for being a betareader for this fic! i also want to dedicate this one to @sungbeam and @wavesmp3 <3 your works inspire me so much and i think this fic is a product of how much they've influence me. hanbin's version is now available! please don't forget to reblog and leave feedback!!

want to be part of my taglist? send me an ask! masterlist

present -> three weeks after the interview, 2024

the newsroom never sleeps. the rings of landlines and clacks of keyboards bounce off the four walls. through light bulbs or sunshine, light continues to remain. and at every corner, a journalist stands—ready to enter the depths of slumber but remain on their toes as they await for an update on their unraveling story.

but the newsroom is rarely busy unless there’s a major nationwide event, election season or the super bowl to name a few, for most journalists are out to discover what the world has to offer.

knowledge doesn’t only come from the chitchat of your coworkers. it’s only on the field that you’ll hear of hearsay and testimonies. after all, the choice to probe rests on your shoulders.

“there’s a typo over there.”

“huh? where?”

“over here,” you mumble as your finger darts to point at a section on the screen. “it’s supposed to say “in their climactic performance on road to kingdom,” not climatic.”

“ah, i see it now. sorry about that,” lee jihoon of digital development says as he corrects the error. his hair is disheveled from the hood that once perched on his head during the night he spent in the newsroom. you would’ve scolded the guy—go home and take a shower before you stink up the place—but you are no better, grouped with the other journalists who stayed up in the office.

“there we go. should be all good. now, are you ready to go through the profiles?”

an exhausted chuckle departs from your lips. “yeah, let’s go—”

“what’s the update?” life and arts editor kim namjoon—your editor—comes to you with a smile.

the grey hoodie he wears paired with comfortable jeans shows that he’s a little relaxed. for once, you don’t see him on his phone, battling the deadlines or getting pitched stories by the other editors. it’s a nice sight but one that won’t last for long.  

“we just finished going through the article about the group, so we still have yet to go through the profiles.” jihoon then looks at you. “i can’t believe you basically wrote 12 articles. like, 11 profiles and one main article is a lot. you didn’t want to work on it with anyone else?”

once namjoon stands beside you, you bump your shoulder against his figure. “i didn’t have a choice, did i?” it’s a rhetorical question but one your editor still chooses to answer.

“unfortunately, we’re understaffed, but it seemed like you got the hang of it. i wouldn’t have trusted anyone else to do it.” namjoon shoots you a smile before redirecting his attention back to jihoon. “and as much as i’d love to tell y/n more, we have to pick up the pace.” without any further questions, the three of you resume with work. 

there’s no time to waste in the journalism industry. still, his praise doesn’t go unnoticed. 

one article turned into eight done in a matter of 30 minutes, all with the help of three pairs of eyes to go through them. (namjoon seemed to carry the heavy lifting. after all, the guy was trained to be quick in reading and spotting errors.)

it should’ve been easy to keep up with your editor for all the other articles; you know each profile like the back of your hand.

then, the face of a boy who you once knew sits on the screen.

his gaze seems to pierce through your soul, almost in the same way you last talked to him. the loose ends of composure slip through your fingers; your breath’s stuck in your throat as the hammering of your heart fills your ears. yet, he stands still on the monitor.

as your eyes drift through the passages you’ve written, every sound is drowned out. the voice of your editor fades like the everchanging seasons and the clicks of the keyboard resemble the sobs you let out in the comfort of your childhood room.

and suddenly, the hands of the clock have turned all the way back to 2014. the cubicles transformed into aisles of chips and instant ramen, and you hear mr. kim’s voice in the distance—i have some hotteok! fresh from the pan! but amidst it all, you hear the giggles of the boy, your best friend, as he rushes towards you—i’ll go audition and make you proud. as your arm is wrapped with the heat of his fingers, you almost believe that your life as a journalist is nothing but a dream—

“i knew him.” the illusion disappears within a blink of an eye. namjoon’s eyes snap towards you and jihoon stops scrolling through the website. “we went to the same high school.”

you aren’t sure why you revealed that to your coworkers, let alone your boss. it’s an old memory—your weight to carry. before you can apologize for disrupting their work, namjoon’s hand rests on your shoulder, his thumb drawing shapes into it. when you look over at him, you’re greeted by his smile. it resembles your bed after a long day of work or a slow day at the newsroom.

but it never lives up to him, whose giggles resemble nature’s symphonies. the two shots of espresso you need at the start of the day once came in the form of his warm embrace. most of all, his smile is enough to illuminate the world even through the strongest storms and times when power went out.

for the remaining articles, not a single word leaves you. before you know it, all 12 articles were ready to go up on the web.

“that’s all of it. should i still schedule them to go up around 12 p.m.?” jihoon notes as he saves the drafts.

“yeah, 12 p.m. still sounds good. thanks a lot.” namjoon nudges his shoulder before looking over to you. “let’s talk in my office.”

you don’t question his orders. once namjoon takes off, you follow him all the way to his office. as he swings the door open, you are met with the familiar sight of his workspace. hues of green and brown mix, where nature and art meet within the space of corporate.

once namjoon takes a seat on his chair, you find your spot across from him. his eyes stare off to the window. for a moment, you’re not sure what to expect from this impromptu meeting.

seconds pass and not a single word has been said—

“this place’s always alive,” your editor breaks the silence. “don’t you think so?”

you follow his line of sight. busy seoul never changes; the skyscrapers pollute the sky and the people never sleep, off to work or off to party.

“where’d you grow up again?”

you look back at namjoon whose eyes still remain locked on the city. “cheongju.”

he hums. “i haven’t been there. nice place?”

“yeah, but i haven’t gone back in a while.”

“when was the last time?” his eyes finally meet yours.

your teeth grasp the inside of your cheek. “2014, since i first left,” you admit. 

“do you miss it?”

you’re not sure how to answer. the pavements you’ve scraped your knees against and the walls your laughs bounced off of—do you miss them all? or is the reason behind your laughter and scabs the one you long for?

“is that why you were hesitant about interviewing them?” namjoon’s thumbs fiddle with each other. “because of your history with him?”

now, you stare at your linked hands. maybe the silence from you is enough to answer his question but you know namjoon would never settle for a soundless answer.

“i—i’m not a good person. and even if i didn’t make the choice to leave, i—” you hold yourself back. your fingers start to pick on the skin around your thumbs, peeling it so blood can spill. 

“it’s okay, i understand. you don’t have to share it with me.” your eyes drift back to namjoon, spotting a small smile that rests on his face. “it must’ve been hard to relive it all.”

the bond you have with namjoon is one that you hold close to your heart. through his mentorship, you got to learn about what it means to be a writer. the fears of being a journalist would loom over you, where questions of salary and demanding work hours would occupy your mind, but namjoon became someone who would absolve them all. he became a pillar in your life, one that provides you hope and comfort within the industry.

“so, don’t feel pressured to talk about it. but if you ever want to open up about it, then i’ll be here.”

namjoon’s giving you an exit. are you willing to take it?

you cross your arms as you lean back into the chair. “you know how i was a science major then?”

“yeah, i remember looking over your resume. and then i saw that you were part of your university’s publication.”

your tongue pushes against the inside of your cheek. “i would’ve gotten some job in that field, like, i had it lined up for me.”

“really? like lab coat and all?”

as namjoon attempts to hold back his laugh over the image, you chuckle along. “yeah, lab coat and all! it’s crazy how my life was all set for that field, but i’m here now.” you look down at your arms. “i think just facing him in a completely different field that i once used to imagine with him was just strange. but i think hearing his answers really did it for me.”

namjoon nods at your words. “care to have lunch with me?” your eyes snap back to your editor. “i’m guessing you want to talk about it, after all.”

all you do is smile before getting off your seat.

spring of 2014

the season of spring has graced cheongju; the sun gleams in the expanse of blue and birds perched on tree branches sing their songs. it’s the perfect season to embrace the wonders of the town.

while it would be a delight to bask under the returning warmth, you’re stuck within the walls of the classroom, head resting on crossed arms. 

still, the lilacs have yet to bloom.

“y/n.” you quickly sit up before your eyes settle on your adviser, ms. jeon, who stands in front of the classroom. “let’s take attendance.”

with that, you’re beside her as you call out each name on the class list. it’s a quick process of saying your classmates’ names for them to respond in variations of “present,” until you reach the section of last names that start with a ‘j’.

“ji changmin.” no response.

you rip your eyes off the piece of paper, only met with your classmates who either look at each other in confusion or spaced out in their own worlds.

“ji changmin?” when you’re met with the same reaction, you’re ready to mark the student absent—

“sorry!” the doors slam open. a boy clad in a white polo and jogging pants is panting by the entrance, covered in sweat as he rests on the edge of it. “sorry, i’m late.”

“oh, it’s okay! you arrived just in time.” ms. jeon smiles at the tardy student. as you watch him take a seat, his eyes lock with yours, but your adviser nudges you before saying, “y/n, proceed.”  

ji changmin made his name a few years back at a competition. the applause and roars from the crowd marked his spot in the school. others describe his movement as of cranes, standing in the middle of a pond as they do their best to minimize forming any ripples, or of elephants, swaying their trunks with control like no other.

but he’s a versatile dancer; nothing can truly capture him.

once you’ve finished marking the attendance, you go back to your seat. you’re ready to start the day with no bother but you can’t shake the feeling of being watched.

“now, you can see in these,” your art teacher, ms. park, points to the screen showcasing works from her favorite contemporary artists like kwon yongju and félix gonzález-torres, “that there are no borders to what constitutes art. and that’s not wrong because we have to recognize that art comes in different forms as we progress, from traditional painting and sculptures to digital ones.”

this field isn't your strong suit. with a greater understanding of the sciences, you struggle to create anything that could be on par with the works of any artist. yet, you enjoyed learning about every piece that your teacher shared, like unfolding and admiring something you know you can never replicate or create. still, the universe decides that they have other plans for you.

“as i mentioned before, i’ll be giving you time to work on your final assessment, which is to create an artwork for the class exhibit. for this deliverable, i’m asking that your work will be a collaborative one, meaning you aren’t working alone.” in a sea of chatter, some groans exit your classmates. “remember, inspiration doesn’t come from your own bubble! take this as your opportunity to create something that you’ve never imagined.”

within a split second, students are off their seats as they attempt to find a partner to work with. you, however, were struggling to think of who you could team up with. admittedly, you have a very different work style compared to others—even cheng xiao, aspiring valedictorian, didn’t enjoy working with you. she turned every activity into a competition against you. (you didn’t enjoy her, either.) while you’re considering shamefully going up to your classmates like a stray dog looking for anyone willing to care for them—

“hi!” in front of you stands the tardy student of today, all smiles as his hands find comfort in the pockets of his jogging pants. “do you have a partner already?”

with furrowed eyebrows, you can’t help but look him up and down. “no, why?”

“well,” changmin looks around the classroom, “everyone seems to have paired up except for us.” as his eyes drift back to you, he flashes you a smile, one that shows the dips engraved into his cheeks. “which leaves me to ask if you would like to work with me for this.”

you don’t have a choice. ms. park would never bend the rules for you. if anything, she would find a way to pair you with another student who would dread the idea of working with you. (“i’m sure they won’t mind being partners with you, right?” is what she would ask the poor student, only to be met with their retreat.)

“unless we accept a failing mark, which i’m sure we both don’t want.” it’s not like changmin had a choice as well.

“okay.” with one word, light fills his eyes, enough to resemble the starlight that grazes your skin every night. “we can meet and discuss our schedules, especially because i’ve got ap stat, and you have, uhm,” a cough leaves you, “training, i’m assuming, or rehearsals. i don’t really know what you call them.”

his eyebrows shoot up as his mouth parts open. “o—oh, yeah. i usually have training after class until 8 p.m. on tuesdays, thursdays, and saturdays.”

“same. my classes are until 7 p.m. on tuesdays and thursdays, so maybe we can use the other days to work together?”

with one nod from him, his dimples reappear. “great! i’ll see you tomorrow.”

before you know it, everyone finds their way back to their seats for ms. park’s final reminders. you do your best to pay attention to every announcement, jotting down every word on your planner and planning out your agenda for the upcoming weeks. yet, your eyes seem to have a mind of their own as they drift back to the boy who discreetly passes notes to kim donghan, another dancer on the team, all while listening to the teacher.

you don’t notice how long you spend staring at changmin until he turns to meet your gaze. in that split second, you look at each other—then, embarrassment washes over you. you shift your attention back to ms. park. as you drum your fingers against the desk, mentally kicking yourself over the interaction, you still can’t shake the feeling of being watched.

you look back at changmin; he’s still looking at you.

his dimples make their reappearance before he looks back at ms. park. you do the same as you attempt to listen to her ramble about banksy’s works. 

(you’re still thinking about the dips in his cheeks.)

the first time you get to meet with changmin for the project happens the following week. you two had different commitments to attend to, whether it be other projects or training. and while you would usually settle to meet in the school library or a cafe nearby, you find yourself inside the empty gymnasium, sitting on bleachers while your partner stands in front of mirrors.

“don’t you think it would be nice to combine our hobbies together?”

your pencil taps against the notebook. “like, your dancing? with what?”

“whatever you like to do!” once he makes his way to you, he leans on the row in front of you with crossed arms. “i mean, do you have anything you like to do during your free time?”

a scoff leaves you. “funny of you to assume that i have free time.”

“what’s your schedule like?”

“well, i have our classes and ap ones, then kumon at night.”

changmin reels at the thought of your schedule. “that’s brutal. the last time i had kumon was back in grade 4.”

“yeah, but i’m sure yours is busy as well. the amount of time that you put into training is…” his eyes are wide, hanging on your words. it’s the hope they hold that has you say, “admirable.”

a shy smile takes over his features. “yeah, but it’s only because my family is supportive of what i do.”

then, limbs whose color resembles the void slither their way to your heart, wrapping around it while the organ struggles to beat; it’s a slow process but an unending hole that will birth from it. yet, you do your best to fight off these limbs, unraveling them one by one in hopes it will give up—until you settle for shaking them off.

you only muster out a hum.

“do you have anything you like to do during those short breaks?”

your lips trill. “i don’t know. watch something on youtube?”

his cheeks puff up, stuck in his thoughts as he tries to navigate this project—and you—until his eyes glint. “what do you do when you want to vent?”

“you sure have a lot of questions,” you comment, trying to hold back a chuckle at his curiosity. “i can just adjust to you. maybe attempt to draw, picture, or even film you.”

his eyebrows furrow. “but that wouldn’t make it collaborative. i want us to work on something that aligns with what we do.”

a beat passes.

he holds your gaze. “i want us to create something that shows us.”

inside you, a gong is struck; its sound reverberates throughout your body, from the crown of your forehead to the tips of your toes. then, silence seeps in��a moment only for you and him.

“i, uh, write,” you whisper as your eyes shift to the notebook resting on your lap.

“really? like, stories and poetry?”

you nod. “i like writing people’s stories more, but i do like making ones.” when you look back at changmin, his eyes are still filled with curiosity. “i would, like, find interviews online and try to make my own, sort of, uhm—god this is embarrassing. forget about it.”

“huh? no, it isn’t!” he attempts to reassure your shrunken figure. “i mean, you don’t have to share more if you really don’t want to, but i’d like to hear more about it.” and when his dimples appear, you almost can’t help but feel your face warm up.

“i’d make articles, i guess?” he nods along with your words. “i don’t know, it’s just interesting to hear about people’s lives and kind of create something out of it, and i like thinking about all the possibilities of who would love to hear them. like, don’t you think that some of the stories that we read hold fragments of someone?”

“that’s an interesting way to look at it.”

as you doodle on your notebook, you say, “yeah, it’s just fun to hear these stories and maybe create something out of it. or even think of stories that i could never live out, you know?” you expect yourself to be met with the bored face of changmin but his eyes remain on you.

“what if you interview me?”

your eyebrows shoot up. “you?”

“yeah,” he stands up before walking up to your row, finding a spot beside you. “think of me as your first interviewee if you want.”

the sudden suggestion has you stumbling over your words. “huh? b—but, i don’t have questions prepared. and how does this help our project?” 

when his arms brush against yours, you start to become aware of the distance between your shoulders—and his face from yours. warmth spreads throughout your body, almost like you’re about to have a fever. once his open hand rests near yours, you don’t know what he’s asking.

“let me draw it out for you.” you hand him your pencil and notebook, allowing him to see your doodles. (you don’t miss his grin.) “you know, with that article you make, we can cut it up and create something out of it.” a roughly drawn sketch of a boy posed in the middle of a dance move now rests on the page. “i don’t know if a collage would be okay.”

as you think about what can be done, you perch your chin on your palm. “we can do papercut art? basically, it’s cutting up the article in a way to form an image.”

“oh, that sounds cool!”

“yeah, but the only challenge is that we can only use one piece of paper.” a sigh leaves you. “it would be impossible for me to even do that.”

“that’s why you have me.” his small smile causes wind chimes to ring. (you’re positive you heard them, even if there were no such things in the gymnasium.)

he continues to sketch out the layout of your joint artwork. “how do we feel about this?” on the paper, there are two boxes beside the figure, where one is labeled as “photo of me” while the other is labeled “an article by y/n.” your head tilts. “it’ll be a three-set piece. so, it’ll be a photo of me and your article, and in between is the papercut art that we’ll make.”

you hum. “you know, you’re very creative.” you look at him only to see that he’s been staring at you. “like, you’re inclined to the arts. i wouldn’t have been able to think of something like this.”

“you’re just as creative,” he argues back as he writes down something.

you shake your head before retorting, “changmin, you’re very talented. i’ve seen the way you dance,” his movements halt, “and you’re like no other dancer i’ve seen. if you ever try out to be an idol, i’m sure you’d do great, maybe end up on the list of the best dancers in the industry.”

but he shakes his head, going back to writing on your notebook and shutting down your compliments. you decide to not push.

“i can get the photo sometime during my training,” he says as he hands you your notebook.

“then i can have the questions sometime this week. for the article, i can have it done maybe four days after the interview. how does wednesday, after school, sound for the interview?”

he shoots you a smile before standing up from his seat. “that’s perfect! i’m looking forward to meeting journalist y/n.” you can’t help but scoff at what he calls you. “what’s wrong?”

“nothing,” you shake your head. “it’s just a silly name.” because the reality is that you had your future planned out—and it definitely didn’t involve that field.

he shrugs. “i don’t know, i think it would fit you.”

“but you haven’t read any of my works.”

“but i want to root for you in the same way you do for me. i don’t want you to feel ashamed of your works.” a fire ignites in your heart; it’s a fireplace.

you’re baffled that changmin, out of all people, now holds your secret, but you’re even astounded over the idea of him supporting you. you almost can’t remember the last time you heard such words of support. is it genuine or nothing but a facade?

“anyway, i’ve got to go. i need to catch up on some homework.” while you shoot him a nod, his dimples make their appearance once more. “i’ll see you tomorrow!” as he takes off, you’re left in the gymnasium with your opened notebook and unlocked heart. you look back down at his sketch surrounded by your doodles, but you don’t miss his little note—cute doodles btw <3

the season of spring has unfolded in cheongju; a single lilac has bloomed.

present -> a day before the interview, 2024

it’s a late night on a tuesday, about to be a midnight wednesday, and you’re in a convenience store as you scout for your dinner. all hauled up in the newsroom, the idea of ordering food during a time where restaurants would still be open slipped your mind. now, you’re left to scan through the same options you’ve eaten for the past years since you started living in seoul.

the convenience clerks are familiar with you, both kim jongseob and kim jiwoo. with your constant late-night meals at the store, you’d talk to whichever one had a shift. jongseob is saving up to upgrade his setup at home to record more music. with all the stories he shares about his time in underground rap battles along with the short verses he’s performed for you, you’re positive that he’ll get signed to a label soon. as for jiwoo, this is one of the many jobs she has in order to save enough money for fashion school. you’ve seen her sketches and outfits she’s put together and you’re hoping that she’ll get accepted.

a sigh leaves you. you didn’t have a problem with eating the food here but you were craving for something new in your life in seoul. the perpetual cycle of eating takeout food and unconsciously skipping meals for work needed to be disrupted just for a moment. but you weren’t seeking michelin-star food—all you wanted was something home cooked. something from home.

the spice of tteokbokki, the burn of freshly fried hotteok, and the sweetness of homemade peach iced tea—mr. kim’s convenience store had it all.

your tastebuds long for cheongju.

“planning to beat your record of spending 23 minutes on deciding what to get?”

you roll your eyes before looking to your right, seeing jongseob stock up the drinks in the fridge. “i hate you.”

“what? i’m just saying, you’re taking a lot longer to decide today.” he chuckles before placing the last bottle of sweetened probiotic milk in the fridge. “none of the options look good to you?”

“sort of,” you hum before you scan through the aisle of packaged meals. “i think i’m craving for something different.”

“i get it. the food here can get boring, which is why i’m planning to order pizza if you want to split the costs.”

your eyebrows shoot up at jongseob’s suggestion. “really? you’d share pizza with me?”

“yeah, as long as you pay for your share.” he shoots you a smile before grabbing on a trolley carrying empty boxes. “unless… you want to pay for the whole thing.”

you bite back a smile as you shake your head. you should’ve known the guy would ask you to buy him food, but you knew that he needed the money and you at least had a stable income to keep you comfortable. “fine,” jongseob’s smile grows as you fish out your wallet from your pocket and pull out a couple of bills. “just order enough for us two.” 

“of course,” he says as soon as you hand him some money. “i’ll make sure to order the most expensive thing on the menu.”

you scoff at his joke. “just make sure to treat me to something.”

the bell by the door chimes. “sorry, can’t hear you over that! need to attend to a customer!” jongseob dashes away from you while dragging the trolley. that little shit just knew how to press your buttons, but you love the kid, anyway.

still, you stand in the middle of the mart and your heart longs for home.

then, you shut your eyes, and you’re transported back in front of the familiar aisle filled with bags of potato chips and sweet corn. the noisy fan along with the soft sounds of mr. kim’s korean drama fills your ears. a mix of yellow and orange hues paint every corner of the mart, including you—and you’re not alone.

your best friend stands on your right, wearing the unbuttoned school uniform polo over a tank top along with jogging pants. he’s lost in thought as he scans through the options of snacks you two can have for today’s afternoon. he starts to giggle to himself, probably from a silly thought he’ll share with you in the next second or a memory involving you, and the dips in his cheeks appear—your heart thumps in your ears.

and just like how quickly you were transported back to cheongju, your surroundings transformed into the cool-lit convenience store found in seoul. all you have left is the image of him bathed in the sunlight.

but he fades away like the ink on old receipts, never gone, because the glowing image of him warps into a different version who stands next to you in the cold mart. he’s grown a few inches taller and his hair doesn’t get in the way of his line of sight. while he wears a green sweater, you notice that he’s gained some muscles. his eyes scan through the aisle behind you filled with different brands of instant ramen.

but he bites the inside of his cheek and his dimples appear.

it’s a tornado that brews within you, enough to uproot trees and displace buildings, all because of an unexpected reunion with changmin. why did the universe decide to bring two ex-best friends on a random tuesday night? what brings him to the convenience store at the same time you’re there? and why did it have to happen a day before the interview?

you weren’t going to commit the same mistake; keep your eyes off of him and make your way out of the store. it didn’t matter if you had an empty, growling stomach, or gave free money to jongseob. you need to leave without the distant, familiar face noticing.

your feet act fast, and you're almost certain that might’ve caught his attention, but it didn’t matter as you see jongseob standing behind the cashier with his phone out. “i just ordered the pizza. it should arrive in about… 20 to 30 minutes.”

“yeah, about that…”

“don’t tell me you’re taking your money back.”

at the sight of jongseob’s pout, you roll your eyes. “no, keep it. i just—i need to go.”

“what? why?”

you peek behind you. it seems like he didn’t recognize you, after all. “i’ve got… work!”

“but don’t you only have your interview with the bo—”

“hey!” your fingers snap at him. “you cannot—i mean, you just… just take the goddamn money.”

“but we’re supposed to share the pizza. you haven’t eaten.”

an exasperated sigh leaves you. “jongseob, just treat me next time. i can eat at home.”

and you’re ready to leave the convenience store, bid farewell to jongseob and a delicious pizza made for two, and never greet or say goodbye to the living fragment of what you last know of cheongju—

“y/n?”

and the plan failed.

when you meet his gaze, you’re able to take in the different version of him. he’s grown so much—it’s such a pain that you weren’t there to witness it. his eyes are a pool of emotions; you can’t identify them.

all it takes is one breath from you. “changmin.”

a beat passes.

“i’m just gonna… go through the storage,” jongseob points his thumb at the back of the mart, “and maybe kill myself afterwards. i don’t know.” before you can protest, he’s already gone. (and he still has your money. that fucker.)

you and changmin were once painted with the hues of the sun. this reunion is tainted with blue.

changmin’s fingers tense up, almost as if he was hesitating—debating—on how to approach you. his body would waver, but he never took a step towards you. “i… i wasn’t expecting to meet you here.” 

“same here.” you lean your back against the checkout counter. “d—do you stay around this part of the city?”

he shakes his head. “i live around 15, maybe 20, minutes away from here. i’m only here because…” your breath gets caught in your throat. “i don’t know.”

fate. that’s what brought us here.

“do you live here?”

you nod. “yeah, ever since—” the sentence never gets completed; you and him already know.

for a moment, sorrow flashes in his eyes, but a smile shows up. the dimples don’t appear. “i, uh, i was going to get something from here but it seems like your friend is busy.”

“sorry about jongseob.” you whip out your phone and scold him through text. “he should be with us in a bit.”

changmin hums before walking to the freezer filled with different ice cream. as he looks through the selection, he asks, “do you still like twin bar?”

“y—yeah.”

“still the grape flavor?” you don’t know what to say, but when his gaze meets yours, you settle for a nod. with your favorite ice cream in one hand and a sandwich in the other, he finally walks towards you. you don’t miss the slight stagger in his steps.

changmin finds his spot beside you. there’s still distance between you two—two tiles worth, enough space for one person—but it’s enough for your muscles to freeze. thankfully, jongseob comes just in time to manage the cashier (with an awkward smile plastered on).

he scans changmin’s item first before grabbing onto your ice cream.

“oh, i’m paying—”

“no, let me,” changmin insists. “you can always treat me another time.”

you bite the inside of your cheek, thinking over the second half of his sentence. jongseob holds back from scanning the item, until you shoot him a nod. changmin pays for the food before jongseob hands them to you.

“i’ll just let you know when the pizza gets here.” his small smile is enough for your shoulders to ease and a quiet exhale to leave. a small nod is all you give him.

you follow changmin outside to the tables in front of the mart. once he’s settled on a spot, you sit across from him. he tears away the plastic wrapping of his food while you play with the ends of yours. 

while he swallows what you assume to be his dinner of the day, you’re left to swallow your own pride.

“i’ve seen your performances.” his chews halt. “you’re—” captivating. “you’ve improved a lot.”  

with one gulp, a shy smile takes over his face. “i still have a long way to go.”

“you always say that, even back then.” a half bitten sandwich now rests on the wrapper. “but i admire your drive.” always have.

while a different version of changmin sits across you, the one you knew back in cheongju still lives. in the busy, unfamiliar expanse of seoul, meeting 10 years later, he’ll never be stranger. you could never treat him as such, even if you wanted to.

“there’s always room for improvement,” he says.

you hum along with his sentiment. “did you stick with early childhood education?” you’re met with his orbs that hold a thousand of emotions, some you can name as shock, confusion. a question hangs in the air—what did you deserve to know?

“sorry, i’m assuming you still went to college, which is totally fine if you did or didn’t, by the way. and it’s also okay if you didn’t stick to your major. i mean, you always talked about pursuing a performing arts degree before—”

“y/n,” he giggles, “you’re okay. i still went to college but i took media & communication.” your eyebrows shoot up at the revelation. “i thought it made sense to study something related to what i do, just the more technical and theoretical side of it, i guess. and the online classes were easy to squeeze into my schedule.” he lifts up the sandwich. “what about you?”

“uh, i ended up in the same course as well.” a hum of shock leaves changmin. “yeah,” you chuckle, “i managed to shift courses.”

“that’s amazing! i’m happy for you.”

you smile at him. “thanks. now, i’m just—” you should tell him what you do. what would be a better time to reveal that you ended up in the path he dreamed for you to be than now? “—figuring things out.”

with your vagueness, changmin only nods before munching away. if there’s anything about you that still remains, it’s that you shouldn’t be pushed to share something you didn’t want to talk about. he still knew that.

as he finishes his sandwich, you tear off the plastic wrapping of your ice cream. with the twin bar in your hands, you snap it into two before you hand him a piece. confusion paints his features, wide eyes glossing over the popsicle in your hand, but he takes it before you can say anything.

“thanks.”

you shake your head. “don’t even worry about it. it’s only tradition.”

silence settles between you two. as you eat away on your share of the twin bar, you look up to the sky. from where you sit, you can’t see a single star; the lights of seoul seemed to outshine them. and during those moments, you almost can’t help but miss the view of the starry night from your childhood room.

you glance at changmin who looks up to the sky as well. yet, one hand remains in his pocket, almost as if he’s fiddling with something. 

as if he feels your eyes on him, he asks, “did you ever think about coming back?”

you halt your movements. if there’s one thing you were expecting your old friend to ask, it would be related to your sudden departure. but you’re hit with an entirely different question, one you didn’t get to rehearse the answer to in case you ever cross paths with him. 

because after all this talk about your yearning for cheongju, why didn’t you choose to visit? despite how much you long mr. kim’s home cooked meals, skies filled with stars, or the presence of your best friend, why didn’t you ever come back?

if you miss home, why is your first instinct to run away from it?

and the reality is that you do think about it all the time. since you left cheongju, you drafted out how many plans to go back. you were homesick, missing the familiar landscape you spent your entire childhood growing up in. but most of all, you missed changmin. as long as you had him, you would survive anywhere, whether in seoul or cheongju.

despite how much you yearned for him during your years away, you learned that your relationship wasn’t always filled with the warmth that would grace you two every afternoon. for so long, you’ve sat with jealousy. while his family was his pillar of strength, you were met with a home that offered nothing but criticism.

the black limbs slowly ate away at your heart; the void was born.

it became easier to remain resentful. with the distance, you weren’t faced with changmin’s genuineness. yet, with time, you discovered that you still cared for him—regardless of your jealousy—because you still wanted more for him than you did for yourself.

for a long time, you resented. now, it’s only guilt that held you back from going back to him.

so when you remain silent, changmin takes it as your answer.

and for the first time, the distance feels greater since you first left cheongju.

summer of 2014

it’s the peak of summer. amidst the expanse of verdant fields, bees seek solace in the fully-bloomed sunflowers and kaleidoscope wings illuminate as they soar.

but summer is where mouths go dry and clothes cling to skin. as days blend with each other, the comfort of your bed is all you have until the season passes.

the fan rumbles against the wooden floor, doing its best to cool you, but the heat prickles against the back of your neck. the wind has turned into nothing but hot waves. with your elbows perched on the desk, a sigh leaves you as you attempt to make sense of the worksheet filled with math equations.

your room is your favorite place in cheongju. within these four walls are scattered fragments of you, from your favorite books and mangas that rest on the bookshelf to the stuffed toys that rest on your bed. book tabs stick out of your workbooks lined up on your desk and your cork board is filled with crossed out to-do lists.

and every once in a while, you would look out through your window, admiring the neighboring houses and all their greenery. as people walk on pavements, you cannot help but think about where they’re off to—are they on their way to work? did they leave an important document back home? or are they coming back to a meal and home filled with warmth?

despite the halo soundtrack filling your ears, the cogs in your brain seem to drown them out. the numbers on your paper have jumbled up. it should’ve been easy. after all, you’ve become friends with the letters who’ve squeezed their way into math. once you’ve wrapped up on this assignment, you know you’ll wake up to another set of work to do. it didn’t help that you’re stuck watching kids your age enjoy their break.

with a tired mind, you consider making yourself another cup of iced coffee. maybe another dose of caffeine will make sense of the numbers—

your phone buzzes against your table. as your eyes rip from the unfinished worksheet, you spot the familiar name flashing on the screen. with one glance at your door, you bring your headphones to rest around your neck. it takes three rings for you to answer.

“what do you want?”

“the fuck? what’s wrong with you?”

you roll your eyes as you fiddle with your pen. “i’m studying, you fucker.”

“on a sunday?” changmin’s question has you only groan. “what happened to resting?”

“i wish,” you murmur as you scratch the back of your head. “i’ve been stuck on this stupid worksheet for the past hours. it’s annoying too. i mean, i already know this topic, so i don’t know why it’s so hard.”

“awe, is my best friend suffering over kumon?”

your forehead rests on crossed arms. “yes. i think i’m going to die.”

“okay, then. i’ll take that as my sign.”

“sign to what?”

he chuckles as if it were obvious. “to save you! let’s go to mr. kim’s.”

a groan leaves you as your back meets the chair. “no, i can’t. do you know what would happen if i don’t finish my kumon?”

“uh… no?”

“me, neither. i’m not taking my chances.”

“but, you’re not even doing anything!” changmin pointing out the obvious has you rolling your eyes. “wouldn’t it be better to take a break with your best friend? i can even help out.”

as you bite the inside of your cheek, you glance once more at your closed door. you weigh it out; would you rather take a break with your best friend or would you save yourself from the consequences brought by home?

but the answer was already clear. “give me 10 minutes.”

changmin laughs before you drop the call.

it’s the smell of fresh hotteok that greets you. the quiet buzzing of the fan accompanied by mr. kim’s favorite trot music fills your ears. while the owner seems to be away from the cashier, a white, stray cat takes over, body flopped on the counter as it snores away the heat. as the sun pours through windows, coating every corner of the mart with a glow of fireflies, you know this will be a place of its own.

“y/n, over here!” a familiar voice calls out. as you whip your head to the source, you see your best friend by the chest freezer, eyes crinkled and all dimples.

now, you’re certain that nothing could ever replicate this.

you walk towards changmin, finding your spot beside him as you two look through the collection of frozen treats. “so, what do you want from here?” you ask.

“uh… i’ll be honest, i just realized i’m short on money.”

you glance through the price tags, only for a groan to leave you. “i’m short too. when did mr. kim raise the prices?”

“no clue. i thought i’d have enough to get a summer crush,” changmin complains as his eyes are glued to the coffee sorbet. “i hate inflation.”

“come on.” you fish out for the coins in your pocket. “let’s see how much we have together.” changmin does the same. with palms out, you two count through your shared funds.

“we can get a summer crush!”

“you can get one. i’ll be left with barely anything.” you look through the selection once more. “man, i really want samanco. the red bean sounds so good right now.”

defeat casts over changmin’s features. for a moment, you almost consider giving up on having a frozen treat and settling for a glass bottle of orange soda, until you spot a familiar popsicle brand.

“holy shit, it’s right there.”

“what?”

“there!” your finger points at the stack of twin bars. “we can probably get that and split it.”

changmin’s expression morphs into realization. “okay, let’s get—”

“dibs on grape.”

“dibs?” he furrows his eyebrows at you. “you can’t just call dibs. you’re doing it wrong. clearly, we should discuss—”

“nope,” you retort. a chuckle laced with disbelief leaves your best friend. to him, it seemed like you were joking around. “i made the suggestion and contributed a lot more to our shared funds.”

“okay, but—”

“don’t tell me you want the peach flavor more than the grape.” as you continue to shut him down, he knows there’s no way around you.

(plus, he wasn’t a fan of peach-flavored things, anyway. how unfortunate that mr. kim only has those two flavors right now.)

“next time, we’re choosing a flavor that i want,” he gives in. you let out a cheer before grabbing the frozen treat.

you two make your way back to the cashier and spot mr. kim slouched in front of the television, hand stroking the sleepy feline. he’s still wearing an old, red plaid apron on top of a pair of basketball shorts and a loose graphic tee which had the name of a band you’re unfamiliar with. with how he sits, you’re afraid that his back problems will get even worse. (still, you don’t say anything. he’ll only play it off and say he’s still one of the “youngins”... whatever that means.)

once his eyes land on you two, a grin takes over. “ah, my favorite kids! it’s nice to see you both.”

“yeah, it’s been a while,” changmin starts off. “y/n’s always busy with kumon.”

you narrow your eyes at the boy. “hey! you’re busy, too! you’ve been practicing at the studio almost every day!” the wrapped popsicle now rests on the counter. “every time i’m free, you’re not.”

“hey! whenever you’re free, i’m tired from training!”

“okay, let’s settle down,” mr. kim breaks up the banter. he then takes note of the ice cream on the cashier, the price showing up on the cashier. “isn’t the heat hard enough for you two to be studying or practicing?”

“yes, very much.” you count the coins once more before dropping the exact amount on the counter. “but,” you glance at changmin and his disheartened expression is enough for mountains to move, “i don’t think we have a choice.”

in reality, these were the circumstances you two had to work and live with. during the days changmin ended practice early, you were drowning in summer school assessments. whenever you managed to finish your homework, it would be during the hours your best friend was off at the studio or passed out at home from exhaustion.

“choice, no choice, people always say that.” mr. kim counts your payment before putting it into the cashier. as he takes note of what you’ve bought, he says, “everyone has a choice. i’m sure you two can figure it out.”

the only difference is that one chose this path; the other had to suffer from the decision forced onto them.

“don’t worry, mr. kim,” changmin nudges your shoulder. “i’m sure we’ll figure it out.” and when the dips in his cheeks appear, you find yourself smiling back.

maybe you were okay with the life you had to live, just maybe.

“anyway, we’ll go ahead,” changmin bids farewell to mr. kim.

you giggle. “he means we’re just going to eat our ice cream at the front.”

as you two slowly make your way out of the mart, mr. kim shakes his head. “you lovebirds go ahead. i’ll see you next time!”

“mr. kim!” you and changmin shout in unison before glancing at each other.

“what?!”

your best friend groans. “you know we aren’t together.”

“yeah! like, i can’t imagine it,” you join in.

still, the owner laughs at your reactions. “you two are so funny. just go and enjoy your ice cream.”

you roll your eyes at his words. “bye, mr. kim!”

with that, you and changmin were out of the mart and took a seat on the benches. you hand your best friend the wrapped frozen treat before letting out a sigh. “i still can’t believe this is one of the few times we got to meet up during the break.”

“i know.” he tears the plastic wrapping off. “you would think that summer break would mean we get to hang out nonstop, but i’m starting to think we saw each other more whenever we had school.”

you hum. “i know. and i had ap stat while you had training.” your eyes dart at changmin who grips onto the popsicle sticks, struggling to split it into two. “oh my god, don’t tell me you can’t split it.”

“hey! it’s hard.”

as you giggle, you reach your hand out. “let me do it.” once changmin hands you the twin bar, you attempt to split the two. for a moment, you almost think about agreeing with him. yet, the frozen treat splits into two perfectly, and a satisfied smile rests on your lips.

you hand him one popsicle, only to be met with his glare. “i know, i’m just better.”

“just shut up.” to that, another laugh leaves you.

under the sun, you enjoy the coolness of the twin bar. while you would’ve stared off to nowhere, you and changmin were here at the right time to catch civilians bustling away. some were on dates, where one would go on about their interest while the other would smile at their rambling. there were kids whose chatter could be heard all the way from the end of the block, and blue-collar men who were off to enjoy their break.

you can’t help but imagine what people saw—thought—of you and changmin. did they think of you as unexpected friends? has it ever crossed their minds that you two were only classmates who seemed to always be paired together? or did they ever think the same as mr. kim?

“you know,” changmin starts off, causing you to look at him, “i was going through college courses the other day.”

your eyebrows shoot up. “oh?”

with your reaction, changmin giggles. “i was just curious, you know? not that i’m giving up on dance or anything, but,” he licks the popsicle, “early childhood education sounds cool.”

you hum. “i wasn’t expecting that.”

“what’s that supposed to mean?”

“no, it’s not a bad thing!” you reassure the boy. “it’s just,” you rip your gaze off of changmin and look at the playground, “i always thought of you as a dancer, you know? kind of like you were meant for the stage.” the laughter of the kids who passed by you two bounces all over the block and you can’t help but smile. “but i don’t doubt it.”

the breeze graces your sweat-covered skin. “what about you?” you look back at him. “would you ever consider journalism? maybe communication as your major?”

you’re quick to laugh at his suggestion, but when confusion paints his features, you realize it’s a serious question from him.

“no.” it’s a straightforward answer from you, but changmin could never settle with that

“why not?”

a sigh leaves you. “i just don’t consider it. i mean, i think about it,” all the time, “but not enough to consider it. plus, astrophysics is cool.”

“but is it your dream?”

changmin’s question is an easy one to answer—not at all. you’ve had enough learning about theories and making sense of the numbers. if your future is going to only complicate that further, then maybe astrophysics isn’t made for you. 

but who’s to say that you’ll even enjoy journalism?

“we’ll see.” you leave it at that and changmin didn’t push for more.

because the reality is that if you ever did consider it, transform those dreams into action plans, you were terrified to be met with your parents’ disappointment—it wouldn’t only be from your lousy desires but from changmin’s role in your life.

the first time you mentioned changmin to your parents happened over dinner, letting them know you would be staying later at school to work on the final project for art class with him. they didn’t bat an eye at his name as they continued to talk about what happened during work and pester you about your progress in other classes. (art class didn’t matter to them, only the sciences and math were ones they seemed to track. still, they would criticize you if you didn’t place first honors.)

with your parents’ oversight, something blossomed between you and changmin. from there, there were more days you would get home later than usual. while you were still on top of your work, they took your late arrivals as a form of negligence.

all it took was one night for them to demand an explanation. the reappearance of him in the conversation had only caused them to reprimand you—changmin’s not like you. he’ll only hold you back. 

from that day on, you’ve learned to keep his name out of conversations. you’ll enjoy what you have with changmin, even if it has to be kept under the wraps.

“how’s training?” you change the subject, trying to keep the attention off of your failed dreams to changmin’s flourishing ones.

“well, it’s a lot,” he chuckles as he munches a piece. “you already know that it takes how many hours to get to the company, and the hours i spend in the practice room are unlike the trainings i have at school.”

as his eyes meet yours, you only shoot him an apologetic smile. it was never going to be easy; you two knew that before changmin entered the doors of the company. yet, he still held on.

“you know, i never considered it before, but i like where i’m going,” he admits. “even if i’ve always had dreams to pursue dance, i want to make my family proud if i ever get to debut.” 

changmin knows how to persevere. regardless of all the bruises he gets from performing complex dance routines or the hours of sleep he longs for, he knows how to hold on. you wish you could say the same for yourself.

“and you will,” you reassure the boy, wrapping your arm around his shoulders. “who wouldn’t be proud of you?”

he holds your stare and your smile falters. for a moment, you don’t know if you touched on a sensitive topic. would he shrug your arm off? do you think he’ll shut you off, maybe cut your time together short? will changmin get mad at you for something you didn’t know was wrong? would he be just like them?

“i want to make you proud.”

that’s enough to answer it all.

you shake your head. “don’t even doubt that for a second.” your arm finds it spot back to your side, and changmin’s loops his with yours.

although he knows how to persevere, he never knows when to shut his ears from the shadows. 

“i am proud of you,” you tell him. “always have, always will.” he can’t help but smile. all you can hope is that he’ll listen closely to your voice.

“i almost forgot,” he says out of nowhere.

“forgot what?”

as he tugs his arm away, his hand fishes for something in his pocket. “close your eyes.” you furrow your eyebrows. “just do it!” you follow his orders. “and keep them closed, okay?” you let out a hum.

before you know it, something wraps around your index finger. you would’ve opened your eyes, confused over the foreign yet familiar material, but they remain shut. 

“okay, open.”

your gaze rests on your finger wrapped in yellow and blue. it’s a finger trap—and the other end is connected to changmin. despite your tug, it still holds you two together.

it’s the warmth that fills your cheeks, the heartbeat in your ears, and your starstruck eyes that has him smile. “no matter what happens, we’ll stick together, okay? regardless of what paths we end up pursuing. all that matters is that we have each other.”

he’s filled with hope. hope for his dreams. hope for your relationship. hope for what the future holds for you two. you can’t help but hope as well.

all it takes is a nod from you to solidify the promise to the universe.

you two sit in silence, finishing up the popsicles as people continue to pass by. at one point, you heard mr. kim let out a curse over the drama he’s watching. the sun is about to set, wrapping you two in a golden blanket, and all that matters is the finger trap.

present  -> two weeks before the interview, 2024

it’s no surprise to you that the newsroom is quiet. while your peers are off to gather more information, you’re with lee chaeyeon of news as she tries to meet the deadline for her article’s first close.

“do you think dokyeom will be late?” you ask as you watch her rephrase sentences.

she laughs. “when is he never? minho’s always assigning him coverages.”

“that’s true.” your eyes drift to the hallway. “i’m just hungry. he still owes me food, you know?”

“over another bet? or you saving his ass?”

“over helping him with an article,” you reveal, earning a shocked look from her. “for some odd reason, he needed another writer to help out with a live coverage, and all the sports writers and sports editor were busy handling the other events.”

“holy shit.” chaeyeon continues with her work. “i didn’t expect you to work on anything sports-related.”

“yeah, but it helped that it was a dance competition. at least i know something about dance.” you only know who to thank. “i’m going to make sure i get compensated for that. i’m planning to raise it to minho and namjoon, anyway. that’s if dokyeom would fucking come and help in explaining the situation.”

with the mention of the tardy writer’s name, he’s scrambling through the halls with his backpack in one hand and a paper bag in the other. the moment he sees you, he shoots you an apologetic smile.

“speak of the devil,” you say as you stand up straight. “why do you always show up late? i helped you with the article.”

dokyeom finds his spot beside you as he sets down the bag on your desk. “i’ll have you know that wasn’t the only article i had yesterday. i was catching up on other ones that minho assigned me.” before he can plop down on his seat, he spots chaeyeon working. “damn, tough life at news.”

“no need to point out the obvious, doofus.”

“wow, harsh,” he replies to her insult. “just so you know, i bought food for us.”

“thank god,” you exclaim as you open the paper bag filled with takeout containers and sealed cups. as you pull them out one by one, you spot your usual order from the vietnamese restaurant around the corner. “oh my god, thank you for getting me this.” you take a seat before you pass dokyeom his food and utensils.

“yeah, i know. i’m just the best.” his shower of compliments for himself only has you rolling your eyes. “but thank you, by the way, for helping me out with the article. i needed an extra pair of hands and my own editor couldn’t stand in to help out.”

“it’s fine. just make sure you help me get compensated for that article,” you say before you open the container. as the smell of bun bo nam bo fills your nose, you can’t help but let out a quiet moan. “holy fuck, i’ve been craving this.”

“i made sure to get you some vietnamese coffee also.”

“yeah, i saw. thank you.” you split the chopsticks with one hand. you’re about to mix the bowl of your favorite food—

“is y/n here?” your editor calls out, causing you to let out a sigh before you stand up from your seat.

“yes?”

namjoon’s gaze lands on you. “can i talk to you for a bit?”

despite your grumbling stomach, you give him a nod and set your food down. as he retreats to his office, you glare at dokyeom who munches away on goi cuon. “i hate you.”

“hey, what did i do?!” you ignore his attempts to defend himself as you make your way to your editor’s office.

once you swing the door open, you spot namjoon whose eyes are stuck to the screen. “you can take a seat,” he says with no attempt to look at you. you sit across from him, hands folded on your lap, while he types away on his keyboard.

the moment he hits the ‘enter’ key is when he finally looks at you. “sorry about that. i was just replying to minho regarding your compensation for the article you worked with dokyeom. we both appreciate what you did. next time though, make sure to loop in minho or me before you two start working on beats not within your staffs.”

“sorry about that,” you start off. “dokyeom only asked for my help and i thought it would be fine since i’m familiar with dance, anyway.”

namjoon shakes his head with a small smile plastered on his face. “it is fine, just make sure to inform us.” you only nod.

“anyway, i’m sorry to have this meeting with you right now but i have to leave work early today, and i thought that you’d appreciate that i tell this to you now instead of tomorrow,” he says. you hum, curious about what he has to say. “i have a coverage for you, a very, very, long one.”

over the sight of your wide eyes, he can’t help but chuckle. “it’s 12 articles,” he says and your mouth gapes over the number. “well, one main article and 11 profiles with very brief introductory paragraphs.” his attempt to ease your shocked state does nothing.

“namjoon, that’s… a lot.”

“yes, i know. i would love to split the workload but everyone else is handling other articles, and i trust you. i know i’m asking for a lot but i’ll make sure to help you out with them. it’s just that we’re working on a time crunch and i don’t know anyone else i can ask but you.”

the faith that your editor seems to have in you is like no other.

“profiles, like, those q&a transcripts?” you ask.

he nods before saying, “yes, and just a brief introductory paragraph for each profile. i’m just expecting you to put more work into the article about the group. i’ll make sure to help out with the profiles.”

namjoon’s trust should be anxiety inducing, enough to send you complaining, but you find yourself relieved. your mentor became your second-in-command; the mountain of workload transformed into a hill.

“okay.”

a relaxed smile appears on his face at your acceptance. “thank god! i was going to stress about this the whole day if you refused. i’ll make sure to send you the details about this once i’m done with my appointments, and then we can see how we’ll divide the work later on.” he types something. “we’re covering a k-pop group which is why there’s one main article about the whole group and then 11 profiles.”

“yeah, i figured that out.” this isn’t anything out of your usual articles. “can i ask who we’re interviewing? maybe i can do some research on them while you attend your meetings.” you pull out your phone, ready to search up whoever your editor says.

“don’t know if you’re familiar with them but they’re called the boyz?” you still in your seat. “wait, let me check. yes, that’s their name.”

“the boyz?”

namjoon looks at you, now met with your features that have transformed from wide eyes to scrunched eyebrows.  “yeah. do you know them?” 

you shake your head without a second thought. “no, i don’t think i do,” you whisper the last sentence to yourself. his narrow eyes look over you, almost dissecting you.

the walls surrounding you are painted in solid colors of pearl, almost untouched. yet, under the paint are cracks that spread like cobwebs. every burst is a testament to the earthquakes they’ve faced; no one should be able to see a single line of black amid the white sea. now, they’re filled with paste, and it should be enough to cover them all.

but for the first time, the paint has chipped and the paste has deteriorated; the different colors of cheongju seep through the cracks.

you clear your throat as you straighten your back. “i’ll be sure to research them.” you wave your phone at him, hoping to divert his attention, but his gaze remains on you.

a sigh leaves him. “okay. expect to receive the documents later in the afternoon.”

he doesn’t push any further. for now, the walls remain intact. (or appear as so.)

it was never going to be easy.

“honestly, i gave up expecting to win as we practiced,” the youngest says through tears. as they huddle, they let out silent wishes for the upcoming years. before they blow the candle, they don’t forget to express their gratitude to the fandom who stuck with them through thick and thin.

a time of celebration turned into a moment to remember their struggles. these were pockets of their time that marked their spot in history.

“oh, everyone behind us is crying!” another member points out as the camera captures the team’s bittersweet cries.

and when you catch sight of the orange-haired boy who hides his tears behind his friend, the ache in your chest starts to spread through your veins. the video cuts to his low-hanging head as his members comfort him. they knew all of his hardships—you only know a fraction.

such a tender moment happened five years ago; it’s the same amount of time between this achievement and your departure. within those years, what did changmin undergo? did his trainings waver his passion or did the fire burn just as bright as it did since he first auditioned? was he confident in his skills or was he still critical about every performance he had?

but most of all, what did he face? what did he learn? to hate? to love?

what did he go through without you?

you don’t forget to take note of their first win on your document filled with bullet points of information. while you were going to continue watching, a recommended video caught your attention. it’s a changmin focus. you don’t hesitate to click it.

the video starts off with him checking up on the fans before the performance starts. as he mimes out eating, they answer his question with reassurance.

and there they come—his dimples appear.

it transitions to their group in their opening formation. as they await for the song to play out, changmin’s familiar smile shifts into a dominant gaze.

in the same way the first notes draw people to listen, your eyes never leave the boy. his movements are fluid, like water droplets sliding off leaves. he commands the stage regardless of where he’s positioned.

changmin is meant to be on the stage—no, every stage is made for him. every crowd is meant to cheer his name and remain captive to his talents, and every spotlight is meant to shine on him.

you rest your chin on crossed arms. long gone was the bowl cut and loose school uniform. he’s grown. matured, even. yet, the moments where his smile appears makes you realize one thing: the 16-year-old boy you knew still lives within him.

as their performance comes to an end, you don’t bother to move your cursor, letting the next recommended video play. and when his vlog plays out, you realize that a fragment of his identity is a whole of what you know.

what an honor it is to have known him for even a fraction of your lifetime.

his voice is a lullaby, the same one you used to fall asleep to, so you allow yourself to close your eyes. you let go of the responsibilities for just this moment, and allow yourself to be transported back into the warmth of his arms.

fall of 2014

out of all the seasons, autumn took its spot in being your favorite. clusters of green slowly morph  into shades of oranges and browns. it’s a symphony of chirps that fills the silence. while the breeze brings you comfort after the heat of summer, it also reminds you of the looming winter.

it’s a shame that autumn does live up to its other name: a season of fall.

“you’re always like this,” your mother comments. you stand in front of your parents, slumped shoulders and downcast eyes, as they hold a sheet of paper they believe dictates your future. “always so sensitive. we’re just asking you what went different. why did your grades drop?” to them, a shift from a to b+ is a threat to your future. 

while your feet stand on wooden floors, a flood starts to form. murky waves crash against your legs, but you do your best to keep your balance.

“answer us when you’re being talked to.” your father snaps you out of your thoughts. “what have you been doing for your grades to drop?” you want to answer but a single sound that leaves you may only lead to blubbers that your parents will scold you for. 

with your silence, your mother sneers. “i knew we shouldn’t have let you do your own things. i told you so.” she shifts her gaze to him. “what did i tell you about y/n? you know they’ll only slack off!”

“i thought we could trust them. clearly, i was wrong.” your father’s glare raises the water levels, reaching your chest. you don’t know how to swim in the foggy ocean.

“i know why.” she crosses her arms. “it’s because of that changmin boy, isn’t it?” she says his name laced with disgust.

you don’t think twice to defend him. “no, it isn’t!”

“don’t you dare talk back at me!”

“but i’m not! he’s done nothing.”

your father begins to raise his voice. “and that’s what’s wrong! that lazy boy does nothing for his studies. he clearly doesn’t care about his future.”

you always knew it would be a losing battle, but you’ll put up the fight to protect your best friend’s name. “that’s not true! he does care. he’s planning to do early childhood education for college, maybe become a teacher.”

“that job has no money. see, i can already see that you’re being influenced by him,” he argues back.

and as the murky waters rise, filling your lungs, your first instinct is to close your eyes and scream. “stop saying that about him!”

a beat passes.

“i don’t want you hanging out with him.”

“but—”

“shut up.” your mother’s words cause you to look up, meeting your parents’ faces filled with anger.  “go to your room. now.” you’re nothing but a puppet for them.

was it even a battle if you always knew you were going to lose?

despite the safety of your room, you don’t let the tears flow down. you do anything to distract yourself; maybe a book will convince you that your life is only a figment of your imagination.

waves continue to crash against your body. if you let them take your body, would they send you far away from cheongju? from your parents? from the weight you were entrusted to carry since birth?

but would you allow the waves to send you away from changmin?

your phone buzzes against the mattress. with tear-filled eyes, you see your best friend trying to reach you. you don’t think twice about declining his call and shutting off your phone.

as you curl in your bed, you hope the sea will swallow you whole—the slow, burning pain that comes with drowning won’t compare to the burns that haven’t healed. but you know that the blame rests on your shoulders. if only you had studied harder, cut off hours of rest for your work, then maybe you would be the perfect child your parents wanted.

were you wrong for allowing yourself to enjoy the small breaks between classes? was the time spent in the mart supposed to be for schoolwork? should you have found yourself a tutor? were you in the wrong for not working yourself to the bone? did you not work enough?

are you not enough?

then, a knock. your eyes snap open. like a stroke of light in the middle of the dark, changmin is by your window.

you get off your bed to open the window. as the glass barrier disappears, he enters your room. “are you okay?” he spots your glassy eyes and his hands find their spot on your shoulders. “what happened?”

you break eye contact. “what do you want, changmin?”

“you didn’t pick up your phone. and when i tried calling again, i couldn’t reach you,” he starts to explain.

you shrug off his grip on you before you take a seat on your bed. “i’m fine. my phone died.” as you feel the spot beside you dip, you look at your best friend. at the sight of his furrowed eyebrows, you know he doesn’t believe you. “i said i’m fine.”

“i didn’t say anything.” for you are an open book to him.

he opens his arms towards you—it’s your move to make. then, a tight-lipped smile shows on his face, his dimples appear, and you allow yourself to fall. with his arms wrapped around you, you shut your eyes as you nestle your face into his neck.

breathe in. breathe out.

his hand finds its spot on your back, rubbing it in circles.

breathe in. breathe out.

“it’s okay, i’m here,” he says, and you allow yourself to crumble in front of him for the first time.

the tears hit changmin’s neck like a light drizzle. your wails bring earthquakes into his world.

yet, his warmth is enough to dry up droplets, and his embrace protects you as you fall into the cracks of the earth and into the depths of the world. the flood starts to subside.

in your time knowing changmin, how much did he know about you after all? had he always known of your strained relationship with your parents? did he hear about it from others or was he able to connect the dots?

because you didn’t know yourself outside of your parents anymore. did you like science because of your kumon classes? was your interest in writing birthed from a desire for validation from your parents?

are you nothing but an array of achievements and failures?

but your parents will never be satisfied; a standard too high is practically nonexistent.

changmin moves so that you two can lie down. his arms remain wrapped around you as you hide in his neck. “i’m sorry if i wasn’t there for you when you needed it then.” his whispered apology causes you to shake your head.

“you didn’t do anything wrong,” you blubber out to his neck.

“and you didn’t, as well.” his hand finds its spot behind your head. with every stroke, a tear streams down. “and i want you to know that i’ll be here for you.”

in your house, your room was the only space you called home. solace built by you. 

now, your home is changmin.

present -> two weeks before the interview, 2024

something about the newsroom feels odd to you. there’s nothing out of the ordinary aside from it bustling with journalists. the familiar sounds of printers and chatter from your workmates fill your ears. it’s a typical occurrence for your peers to meet their deadlines on the day itself. the tug in your gut doesn’t resemble ones formed out of your anxiety. why does it feel like one of destiny?

“where is dokyeom? i swear, this guy never shows up to the office.”

you snap out of your thoughts, looking over at chaeyeon who browses through her phone. as you shove a bill into the vending machine, a chuckle leaves you. “when is he never?”

“maybe if he finishes his coverages on time then he’d be getting enough sleep. then, he won’t be late.”

you side-eye your friend before you click on a button. “you know that’s not true.”

she sighs at the same time your bottle of iced tea drops. “yeah. apparently, if you have free time, you’re not a good journalist or some shit which i find stupid.” you grab your drink before facing her. “am i not allowed to do something else that’s not related to my job? i swear, this is why i’m single.”

“then date another journalist.” your joke earns a scowl from her.

“i’m never dating anyone in my field. a journalist dating another journalist is like,” she looks up to the ceiling as she thinks, “a long distance relationship with how much they’ll never see or have time for each other.”

a laugh erupts from you, one that may be too loud for your liking. “true.”

as you walk out of the breakroom with chaeyeon, you notice something in the corner of your eye: a brunette by the restroom. while you can’t see his face, you spot what’s in his hand and you halt in your tracks—a finger trap.

“hey, is there someone there?” your eyes snap back to your friend who looks at you in confusion. when your eyes drift back to where the brunette once was, he’s already gone. you shake your head before walking back to your desk.

the same gut feeling lingers. with a frown, you open up your article only to be met with a few comments that namjoon left last night. maybe your gut knew that you weren’t done with your work. thankfully, it’s nothing too major, and you can have them done within the next few minutes.

“there you are!” chaeyeon exclaims, causing you to look up from your screen to a panting dokyeom. “were you working on your articles again?”

“actually, i went out last night.” while you shake your head at dokyeom’s reveal, chaeyeon gasps. “yeah, i did! i actually had fun for once!”

as he nods proudly at last night’s events, she complains, “are you serious?! how come you have time to go out? i was just talking to y/n that we never have time to ourselves.”

“i’m in sports,” he points out as he shrugs his shoulders. “you’re in news.” at this point, you’re expecting the two to spiral into an argument, so you redirect your focus back to your article.

“hey, did you hear though? there’s a k-pop group in the building.” you glance at chaeyeon.

your other friend leans on the cubicle. “really? who?”

“no clue.”

dokyeom lets out a groan. “what type of journalist are you if you can’t find out?”

“yah!” chaeyeon smacks his arm, causing him to wince in pain. “says you who can never submit on time.”

“hey, i’ll have you know that minho has been understanding!”

“whatever.” she rolls her eyes before looking at you. “that means you’ll probably be handling them. i hope they’re cute so that you can finally have something going on with your life outside of work.”

a chuckle leaves you as you get back to work. “i’m never dating an idol. i’d get hunted down by their fans.” 

“yeah, but can’t you dream a little? do you ever imagine what it would be like?”

the past plays in your mind. after school performances and interviews. broken-up popsicles. finger traps. a life you shared with changmin then—one you still cling onto.

yet, you shake your head as you edit your article. “not even.”

it’s a life you’ll keep to yourself.

“what’s the update?”

the three of you look away from each other, spotting namjoon who comes to you with a smile. long gone were the sweaters that failed to drown out his figure and the boxy glasses that would rest on the bridge of his nose. now, he wears a dress shirt and trousers with hair slicked to the side. there were no frames for him to hide behind.

“ah, namjoon! you’re dressed so nice today.”

with dokyeom’s compliment, he can’t hold back on his smile. “thank you. are you guys done with your articles?”

as your friends nod, you add the finishing touches to the document. “and done! i just finished addressing your comments.”

“great. thanks, y/n.”

“do you have something?” chaeyeon asks your editor, causing you to roll your eyes. one thing about journalists is that they love to know everything.

namjoon nods before saying, “i just had a meeting with some possible interviewees.”

“is this the one with the k-pop group?” as dokyeom asks the question, you can’t help but laugh as chaeyeon looks at him in disbelief for spilling confidential information.

your editor chuckles. “yes.”

“can we know—”

“no, you can’t know.”

chaeyeon pouts at namjoon. “not even a hint?”

namjoon ignores her question and begins to walk off. “good work, y/n!” he calls out before leaving you three alone.

“man, namjoon never tells us shit,” chaeyeon complains as she leans on the table.

“to you guys, at least,” you argue with a small shrug.

still, the gut feeling remains.

something about the newsroom feels odd to changmin. while he’s had his fair share of paranormal experiences, his gut tells him that there’s something in the office. yet, the tug isn’t one that speaks of danger. why does it feel like one of destiny?

“should we have a short break before we discuss the schedules for the photoshoots and interviews?” changmin is snapped out of his thoughts by namjoon’s suggestion.

his manager looks at the group. “do you guys need a break?”

sangyeon shoots namjoon a smile before looking at his members. “you guys can use the washroom if you need to.”

although everyone seemed fine with proceeding, changmin couldn’t shake off the feeling. maybe the leftover curry he had this morning went bad. “i’ll go,” he says as he gets off his seat.

namjoon slowly stands up. “okay, i can bring you there—”

“it’s okay! i saw the washroom on the way here,” changmin says before walking to the door. “you can discuss the details without me. i’m sure you guys will manage.”

with sangyeon’s and his manager’s nods, namjoon settles back into his seat. “okay then, here are some of the dates i have in mind...”

changmin exits the room. he bites on the inside of the cheek as he thinks of what his gut could be telling him. is it the nerves for the upcoming tour? is he worried about the next comeback they’ve been preparing? or is he scared about what the future has in store for his group?

with his mind on these questions, he doesn’t realize that he arrives in front of the bathroom door. a sigh of frustration leaves him. the worst thing about gut feelings is never knowing what they’re trying to say.

he grips the handle, ready to swing the door open, until a familiar laugh hits his ears. one of the past. one he hasn’t heard in years. his muscles freeze.

when was the last time he heard that chortle? when was the last time he became the cause of it?

his eyes dart around the area for the source but no one else is here. he can’t help but shake his head in disbelief.

it should be stupid for him to think you two would ever reunite. in what world would you be in the same place as he is? it’s been 10 years. you could be anywhere around the world. yet, he fishes for something out of his pocket; the same finger trap he linked you to him rests on the palm of his hand.

he sighs before entering the washroom and shoving it back into his pocket.

maybe he’ll hold out a little longer.

winter of 2014

out of all the seasons, changmin’s favorite is winter. snowflakes fall, filling the sky with stars that people can touch, and snow piles on sidewalks, letting him throw snowballs at his friends. despite the freezing temperatures, changmin prefers this over nearly-boiling ones.

he can’t wait to share this season with you.

yet, the familiar, chilly breeze of the season transforms into whispers, and word gets around like thrown snowballs. 

“is y/n really not going to school anymore?” changmin looks up from his desk to see cheng xiao standing in front of him. he tilts his head in confusion, causing her to roll her eyes. “are they not going here anymore?”

he frowns. “huh? what kind of rumor is that?”

“i don’t know. it’s what people have been saying,” she says as she crosses her arms. “i asked because i wanted to know if my competition’s gone, you know? and you’re the only one here who has an idea about their whereabouts.”

changmin laughs in disbelief. “no, i was with them last week.”

when changmin last saw you, you asked for space. with what’s been happening with your family, you needed time to process and cope with your issues, and he respected that. after all, he only knew a fraction of your relationship with your parents, and he didn’t want to intrude in anything you didn’t want him to be a part of. still, changmin reminded you that he’ll be there if you need him.

“damn, that sucks,” cheng xiao groans as her shoulders slump. “these stupid rumors.” as soon as she leaves changmin alone, he shakes his head.

the bell rings. students start rushing into classrooms and teachers scold those who aren’t on their seats. ms. jeon enters the room, walking to the desk in front and setting her things down. “cheng xiao, you’ll be in charge of attendance today.”

as changmin’s classmate gets off her seat, he can’t help but look at your desk that still remains empty.

“you have to message us when you land,” your mother says as she fixes the collar of your coat. despite your nod, she clicks her tongue. “answer me properly.”

“yes, i will.”

once your father finishes placing the last luggage in the trunk of the taxi, he stands beside your mother. “don’t forget why we’re sending you there. we expect you to do better with no distractions.”

your phone buzzes in your hand. as you look down, you see a message from changmin. as he asks about your whereabouts, the weight gets heavier—will you stand or crumble under it?

“who’s that?”

you stash your phone away as you look back at your parents. “nothing. it’s just an email from the school. they sent over the date for the orientation.” at the sight of their satisfied smile, you let out a small sigh of relief.

“well, go on.” your nod at your mother before getting in the car. with the windows still down, she adds, “don’t forget to get endorsement letters from the professors i sent over to you or else you won’t get to study abroad like we planned.” her choice of pronouns is funny; a plan that they crafted which never considered your input.

“okay.”

as your father commands the driver to go, your gaze remains on the two. it should be okay with you to leave cheongju; you’d be far away from your parents and experience an entirely different landscape to explore. it’s time you break away from the chains of this town. learn a life outside of what your parents forced you into.

yet, as the car takes its leave, the figure of your parents slowly shrinks. the distance from them should’ve given you the space to breathe, a relief you’ve longed for, but it only reminds you of your strained relationship. to them, it would be better that you’re out of their sight—and with your farewell, you never heard the three-word phrase.

the window rolls up. you try to hold back the tears, but the scenery of cheongju that you pass by births a storm within you. you didn’t want to say goodbye to home, regardless of how much you say you didn’t have a home in this town. every corner holds a piece of you in the same way you hold a piece of them.

the car approaches a safe haven you share. despite the snow that piles at the front, mr. kim’s convenience store is still open. you’ll never get to have his hotteok again or hear his favorite dramas play in the background. worst of all, you never got to say goodbye.

then, the familiar figure of your best friend exits the mart, and the storm transforms into a typhoon. the plastic bag he holds is filled with your favorite snacks, from the grape-flavored twin bar to a bottle of mr. kim’s homemade peach iced tea.

and in that moment that your car passes him, he pulls out his phone from his pocket, and you spot the familiar trap wrapped around his finger—the other end holds no one.

as quickly as you came into changmin’s life, he disappears from your view.

finger traps were fascinating. if you tug hard, the contraption won’t let your fingers go. yet, if you allow the two fingers to meet, allowing the toy to loosen, it’ll let you go with no harm.

but your finger trap with changmin was different. maybe it was already ripped to its seams.

interview

q: what made you decide on becoming an idol?

a: i’ve always loved dancing. growing up in cheongju, i always made time [for dance] whether it be [for] school competitions, talent shows, or even [choreographies] i wanted to try out. but i never considered becoming [an idol] until high school. a lot of my friends and family thought i was capable, and i’m glad they trusted me. it feels good to give back to them with every performance.

q: as the first trainee meant to debut in the boyz, you’ve spent more time training compared to your other members. what kept you going throughout your years of training?

a: my family’s support was one big thing that helped me [during my training.] every trip from my house to the company would last hours, and it drained me physically. so as the years went by, i started to question if all the time, money, [and] effort i was putting into an unpromised debut would be worth it, but my parents and sisters were always there to support and [take] care of me. but i’d also like to think my best friend was a major support in training years. i think they were the first one to [tell me that they saw me as an idol,] and at the time i brushed off the idea. but, look where i am now? so i think i owe a lot to them.

q: is there anything you’d like to say to those who’ve supported you as the boyz’s q?

a: mom and dad, thank you for believing in me. i know it wasn’t easy to wait until midnight for me to come home or take care of me whenever i got sick from training. thank you for always supporting me in every performance. to my sisters, thank you for helping mom and dad out at home. every day, i remind myself that you gave up so much just so i can pursue my dreams, and i want you know that i’m forever grateful for your sacrifices. to the rest of [the boyz], thank you for always allowing me to rely on you. i’m glad i can say i have brothers who i get to achieve my dreams with. deobi, thank you for your love and support over the years. i wouldn’t be the boyz’s q or ji changmin if it weren’t for you. and lastly, thank you to my best friend. i hope you’ll always be proud of me the same way i’ll forever be proud of you.

tag list: @deoboyznet @kflixnet @blankjournal @winterchimez @miusgirl @jenoscafe @sweet-unicorn-world @mosviqu @vernyangel @stealanity @deobi0412 @blue-rainydays @maessseongs @dearly-somber

[evilslushy]

would you be open to doing bf headcanons for hamzah? they could be sfw and nsfw or just sfw. love ur writing :). <3

BF Headcanons _♡

SFW

i’m a very opinionated person, so asking me about my hamzah headcanons is a FIELD DAY for me

I’ve always said this but I feel like hamzah (in the beginning of the relationship) is very shy? Not in the way of “ignore any possible interaction between you and him” but more of a “ignores eye contact after a kiss” or “blushes when you call him a nickname for the first time”

He acts like he hates when you baby him but behind closed doors… BIGGEST BABY EVERRRR

It took him a while to hold your hand in public, not because he's embarrassed but again because he gets too flustered when you run your thumb up and down against the back of his hand,,, or when you play with his hands in general.

I MENTIONED THIS BEFORE IN FIC BUT HAMZAH IS AN EAR BLUSHER AND HE'S SO CUTE WAA

If you get on his lap and play with his hair while talking about random stuff, and you kiss him out of nowhere HE’LL SMILE THIS BIG SMILE AND COVER HIS EARS IM CRYINGGGGG HES SO CUTE

Speaking of kissing lololol

Hamzah’s kisses are SENSUAL, he takes his time and really makes sure you feel his love

Contrary to popular belief i feel like if you’re with hamzah for long enough his love language becomes physical touch

And i dont say that and mean ONLY kisses but hes such a cuddly person. HE NEEDS THAT TLC HES A BIG BOY

BUT. Big but! He is not the type of person to show affection publicly IM SORRYYY

Holding hands and hugging is fine but i think more intimate things he’d rather do in private…

Not because hes embarrassed as i said, he gets shy at other people perceiving that version of him especially since he isn’t ‘acting’ or ‘joking’

Also he feels like only you deserve to see him like this hehehe

His love language is quality time. Like actually.

His head on your chest, playing stardew valley on his ipad. You watching TV or reading while playing with his curls.

Another form of this is that he’ll ask you to be him and martins cameraman just to have you there with him

Or he’ll ask if you want to try a new coffee shop that opened down the street

He’s a man that likes to be around you 24/7

ALSO ALSO ALSO OMG OMG

HE WOULD SO FORCE YOU TO DO BACKGROUND VOCALS FOR SOME OF HIS MUSIC LIKE THE RAPPERS HE LIKES LMFAO

I dont wanna go on too long with this but one thing is for sure

You’re his princess for REAL treats you like ROYALTY lol

If you guys get into an argument. Even if you’re wrong, he ends up apologizing

“I shouldn’t have let it boil over to this anyway.”

10/10 boyfriend. Totally recommend.

NSFW

SISTA. I HAVE NEVER EVER THOUGHT I’D HAVE THE PLATFORM TO SHARE THESE THOUGHTS BUT I HAVE TO MAKE SURE YALL UNDERSTAND ONE THING!!!!

Hamzah is NAWT a boob or ass guy. HE LIKES BOTH EQUALLY. (He is secretly is ass-leaning tho LMFAO)

This is so funny but he totally is the type to smack your ass randomly when he walks by.

Do you get mad? Yes. Do you tell him to stop it? Yes. Does he stop? No. Do you secretly think it's kinda…? WELL YESSS

TWO WORDS. Boob squeezer.

I think from what we can understand so far. is that Hamzah is the handsy man. HIS HANDS ALWAYS SOMEWHERE LOL

sex drive is for sure high. and when i say high… ITS HIGHHH

Contrary to popular belief AGAIN.

Hamzah doesn’t partake in dirty talk much… not that he doesn't like it—he just wouldn’t in my opinion? It's not that he wouldn’t talk at all, but he is more of a heavy breathing, whimpering, moaning guy—pretty much more noises than actual words

Though as i said, he would talk sometimes, especially if he’s feeling really good, or his stamina is lasting him longer than he thought… he starts getting a little cocky

On the topic of dirty talk, if he does talk, 99.9% of it would be praising, i don't see him enjoying degrading unless you ask him to.. but he’ll be a little awkward about it LMFAOOO

Something like: “fuck, baby you’re taking me so good.”

(Unironically starts actually using good girl after a while of making it a joke btw)

Someone sent a request a few days ago and said “i feel like hamzah has a breeding kink” and why was i gagged?! NEVER THOUGHT ABOUT IT BUT YES, i feel like hes more into the thought filling u with *** then the thought of impregnating you if that makes any sense

Im talking too much… digital footprint go hard.

(A/N): this isnt proofread, i kinda braindumped but i had fun doing this!! Thank u anon for the request I HOPE U LOVE THIS CUTIE MWAAAAHH

[gamerchrissgf]

𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐩𝐞𝐚┇𝐂.𝐒

𝘱𝘵1. 𝘚𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘴.

⌈after a lifetime of being ignored, and the death of her father, taking out her rage against the world the only way she knows how - murder.⌉

⌈pairing⌉ Chris Sturniolo x Sweetpea!reader.

⌈warnings!⌉ mentions of death, killing, drinking, smoking, smut (in later parts)

a/n: in my sweetpea era. I recommend watching it first before reading this lol. I dont wanna spoil anything. Its the same story line but like my own twist to it, and some similarities too. its been pretty good so far. so this is soley inspired off the show with also my own twist.

(Divider by @bernardsbendystraws)

‘People id love too kill…’ you thought. Sitting on the back of the bus between two men, man spreading ‘Men that lack human decency. Lindsey from the corner store who was never really happy to help’ flashing back to the memory.

“Just these please” you announced, barely noticed by her as she smacks her gum with headphones in “Right and I told her she couldn’t get mad at me just because her man wanted me.” She tells her friend over the phone.

‘My shitty boss. For failing to acknowledge my work, justin from work. For his lack of spacial awareness. Actually everyone from work ’ another flashback hits you. “Night!” You say enthusiastically just to be ignored by your boss and fellow employees.

‘My mom for leaving us and never telling us where she went’ flashbacks of you and your sister standing with your father begging your mother not to leave. Pulling yourself out of your daze you look down at your phone at your long list of messages to your sister typing an ‘I miss you’ message and hitting send.

‘My sister for leaving me on read.. on the phone and in life.’ You continue thinking. The man beside you spreads his legs wider knocking you out of your trance. “Im sorry but do you mind closing your legs a little? Im already squished” you ask the man. He just scoffs.

‘My dad. For dying.’ Its not like it was his fault for dying. But he left me completely stranded. On my own. Sure I just turned 21 but im all alone now. My sister leaving me to live with her fiancé in California.

‘My old high school bully. Who made me invisible in school and in life. Christopher Sturniolo. Fucking Christopher Sturniolo. Who made my life a living hell.’ Flashbacks of you walking down the hall. You getting shoved into a locker just for the fucking asshole to laugh with his friends “guys I think I just bumped into a ghost” another time being you being at your locker, he walks over with his friends leaning against the locker by yours “guys did you hear that y/n died? Not like anyone would miss the girl anyways” he announces “I’m not dead I’m literally right here” you say in a hushed manner just for him and his friends to shove past you laughing.

Who subjected me to an endless cycle of psychological abuse. Destroying my self-worth and general context of the world. “Oh my god, do you guys smell that?! It smells like rotting flesh!” He says “shes so fucking weird.” One of his friends chime in. Christopher Sturniolo, for making me pull so much of my hair out, that I had to wear a wig. Christopher Sturniolo, for turning me into a ghost.

Making me forever invisible, and afraid.

*itty bitty time skip*

“We gather here today in honor of the late David Sharp. Who was not only a son to the lovely Barbara sharp. But a father to his two beloved daughters Jasmine and y/n Sharp……” the pastor says as he brutally mispronounces your name. “Thats not my name…” you whisper “hush.” Your sister says nudging you with her knee. “A man of many talents, a man of many friends, a man of many loving employees” you turn looking towards Aj giving him a small wave, just for a little head nod in response.

You’ve known Aj for roughly 2 years. Him working as an assistant to your father. You guys have also hooked up quite a few times. The last time being 2 weeks before your fathers passing. You’ve texted Aj in your down time. Mainly when you’ve felt lonely. Just to receive shit ass responses.

Y/n:

Hey… do you maybe wanna come over tonight?

Watch a movie or something?

Aj:

Cant. W the boys.

Y/n:

Oh okay!

Maybe some other time!

Aj:

👍🏼

Before you know it the funeral is over and your standing out front with your sister. Thanking people for coming. You hear a group of guys laughing. ‘Who the fuck laughs at a funeral?’ Looking towards the laughter you see him. “What is he doing here?!” You ask your sister. “Him and his brothers came back to pay respects to dad. Since Jim was a close friend of dad’s…” she says

“Matt, Nick, Chris thank you guys for coming!” She says giving the three boys a hug. You stood there with your head low. “Of course sorry for your loss. I cant Imagine how hard it must be for you guys right now…… hey y/n” Nick says while returning the hug to your sister and patting your arm gently. “How have you been kiddo?” Matt asks. You feel his eyes on you. Looking up you see chris staring at you. “Well my dad died so…” you say “y/n dont be weird” your sister says while nudging your arm. You start messing with the stands of your hair on the back of your neck

It is weird though. You haven’t seen the triplets since you all graduated high school. You getting a normal job at you local newspaper office and them moving to L.A. to be youtubers. I mean of course you guys always had dinners at each other’s house due to your parents being high school friends and your sister being best friends with Matt.

Probably because they’ve also dated in high school for about 10 months. Breaking it off because they both decided being friends would be much easier “You’re not still doing that are you?” Chris asks. Snapping you out of your thoughts you quickly move your hand letting out a small gasp. You look at him before excusing your self and walking away.

“Hey… Ive tried looking for you… when did you start smoking?” She asks with a disgust look on her face. “Since dad died. Only thing helping me stay focused. It was good catching up” you say. “Yea I havent seen the boys in ages. Ive missed them… So ive been thinking we need to sell the house y/n” Jas says breaking the silence “and dads business probably” she adds. “What? B-but I live in the house Jas.” You stammer out. “There are other houses.” She says bluntly

“Well Tom and I wanna buy a place for the kids and us so…” she says “why dont you move back? We could be like a little family!” You try to lift the mood. “Are you serious?” She asks rolling her eyes. “Its settled. Chris is helping. He has a friend in real estate so its final” she says looking down at her phone “Jas no. You cant. Not him.” You say as she cuts you off getting into the back of her uber “lets talk about this later okay? Ill call you… hey the boys are going to luckys tonight for a reunion drink. You should go.” She says trying to make you feel better

“Are you serious?” You ask “what?” She asks “he pretended like he was better than me. Did you not hear what he said to me. He hates me.” You ramble on. “Who chris? Maybe he doesnt. This could be good for you, ya know? A new start?” She says “well dads dead so” you state clearly annoyed and mad at everything thats happened in the past 10 minutes “yea I know. He was my dad too. You need to get over this whole Chris thing. Go to Luckys you might actually enjoy yourself.” She says rolling up the window as the car pulls off.

*another itty bitty time skip brought to you by yours truly*

‘There is no fucking way I actually showed up to this.’ You thought standing outside of the pub. Already a few glasses of wine in. You dont want to be labeled as a lightweight but you just turned 21 so ofc you’d get drunk easily not participating in underage drinking and high school parties.

Walking into the pub, you see many people. Some old cliques from school. Then you see him. Having that liquid courage and already leaving heated voicemails on your sister’s phone you stomp your way over to him.

“Christopher! CHRIS!” You yell grabbing onto his arm. “I need you to fuck off and stay out of my life” you say grabbing onto his forearm pulling him towards you “Oh hey y/n… are you good? Do you need some water?” He says with a smug grin on his face. “No I dont need fucking water I need you to fuck off!” You say “I have no idea what your talking about kid.” He says stepping towards you. Leaving little to no space between the both of you.

“You know exactly what im talking about! You ruined my life in high school you made my life a living fucking hell. My dads dead. Your selling my house! And now your ruining my life again!” You yell. Drawing attention from Matt and Nick as they walk over “Hey y/n… you dont look too good right now. Are you drunk do you need a ride home?” Matt asks “No what I need is for Chris to fuck off and stop ruining my life!” You yell tears welling up in your eyes. “Listen kid. I didnt give a shit about you in high school and I dont give a shit about you now. So all your shitty life problems thats on you. Get the fuck off me.” He says shoving you back.

“Hey are you-” you cut Nick off snatching your arm away from him stumbling out of the pub. Walking across the road a man bumps shoulders with you causing you to stumble some more. You walk down a flight of stairs that lead to a creek under an overpass. Sitting there lost in thought you dig through your purse finding your dads old pocket knife. “Lifes shit without you.” You mumble.

You get lost in thought when a man comes up behind you, taking a piss on the wall and hitting you with his piss “hey! What the fuck?! Did you not see me sitting here?!” You yell at the man “Oh shit sorry sweetpea didnt see you sitting there.” He says chuckling as he turns around to walk off.

Clearly still pissed off with your interaction with Chris and at the man that just pissed on you. You walk up behind him kicking him in the back of the leg “Do you see me now?!” You yell at the man “what the fuck, oh your in some shit now” he says walking towards you. Walking back your back hits the railing and hes getting to close to you.

With the knife in hand you jab it towards his stomach “Ah fuck! You fucking cut me! My favorite shirt! You ruined it! Your so done!” As he steps towards you, your mind goes blank as you jab him in the neck. The man falls to the ground and you straddle him as you stab him repeatedly “do you see me now?! Huh?! Now do you see me! Do you see me now!” Watching the life fade from his eyes you snap back into reality.

“Ohh fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.” You say with panic in your eyes. Dropping the knife looking down at your body. Your covered in the mans blood you can taste it on your lips. In a rush you push the mans body into the creek picking up the knife. You look down at your outfit again zipping up your rain coat and pulling up the hood making a beeline straight to your home.

Walking into your home and hurriedly locking the door you run straight to your bathroom looking at yourself in the mirror. Closing your eyes you get a flashback from your last conversation with your father.

“What happened here?” He says pointing at your hand “oh nothing, justin just bumped into me” you say “you need to stop letting people piss all over you kid. You need to be more ‘RAHR!’ You know?” He says. Shaking your head you open your eyes looking into the mirror.

“RAAAAAAAAHRRRRR” you scream.

a/n: pt 1 wooo. It feels long and ive skipped a lot of parts from the show but I swear this is just the beginning. Pt2 idk when we’ll see how this does. My hands just hurt from all the typing lol.

[leighsartworks216]

Just took an edible for the first time fonjfht and i am having a great time updating my friends on every small fhoufht but one of them told me to look at sylus and im like 😄 and i do the little talking thing with him and thats fun but now im just thinking about sylus or zayne taking care of mc during their first time beinf high

Im still goin thru it so if none of this makes sense uhhh idk

But like Sylus just letting you sit in his lap and hold his face and just stare at him cuz you reall wanted to. Lets you do little silly things so long as you don't get hurt or anuthing in the process. Makes sure you drink water and eat something and are dressed comfy. But he is teasinf yiu the whole time and probably having Mephisto record what you're saying

And zayne like he would want to know right away and be there with you for tour first time cuz he wants to make sure youre beinf supervised. Provides plenty of water and will get you snacks and sits with you as you sit on the couch or lay in bed. And he talks with tou but his responses dont take 5 minutes to fully get out and he actually makes more sense, but irs fully bc hes all logical and cool and youre not. And he is definitely keeping an eye on the times you start experiencing things. You start to get tired and he helps you walk to the bathroom so he can help you through your routine. Holds your jaw gently while he brushes your teeth, and you just sit there with ypur eyes closed full trust in him cuz you know he kinda loves beinf able to take care of you like this, esp if youre stubborn about it usually. Makes sure you take your meds so long as they dont conflict with the weed. And he brings over your plushies bc you really wanna hold them all. And he holds you. Hes surprised that youre awake for as long as you are, talking to him about every odd thought in your head and telling him about the things you love about him. In the morning, he shares some interesting things you said and fills you in on things that are a little fuzzy

You can tell who consumes my thoughts more rn

I just loverhem both and i wish they could exist to take care of me rn

Anyway goodnight i canr wait to read all this in the morning

[ihatethisstuf]

This is a scheduled post (From, November 2nd, 2024, It's supposed to be posted November 24th, but Idrk how to schedule, so we just pray it works). Trigger warning for (in a positive connotation) self harm (its bit graphic) and mention of suicide. If you were mentioned, but those are a trigger for you, skip to the part you were mentioned (it'll be mentioned in grey), do not force yourself to go through it.

I know this is a rp blog. But, everyone who interacted, roleplayed with, damn simply reblogging it, had an huge impact on this achievement.

On November, 24th of 2023, I cutted myself. It took me to the ER. Thankfully, I did not get stitches, but it did leave a scar, a scar I thought would haunt me forever.

Spoiler: It didn't.

I remember the doctor asking me if I had suicidal thoughts or ever attempted it, and I knew that depending on my answer, it could take me to a psychiatric unit; I didn't want that. I didn't want the fear of explaining it to family or friends. So I lied, I lied, putting in mind that from then on, I'd commit to that never ever happening again. And here I am. 1 year free. And tell you something, these 2 months were hell, but every notification, every interaction, it was a daily motivation: "I need to finish that arc," "I could make more posts like it", so I can only say thank you and sorry if I sounded desperate sometimes, it felt like here was my only escape

Part of my young 5-year-old me, who dreamed of being themselves, without fear, was healed by this blog; I can thankfully be the EVIL VILLAIN MUAHAHAHA, and know that it's not that bad, know that liking villains does not make me a bad person, it does not mean I'm some sort of psychopath as some other kids would tell me.

Honestly, I completely understand if these blogs mods don't read it, bc it might be triggering, but I'll mention, just in case.

@one-sixer-please (I love interacting with your blog, is always fun, and it truly motivated me in my shittiest days)

@askdrunkbillcipher (Bruhh, your account is like the funniest I've ever interacted with, I don't even know what to say, just, thank you.)

@theaxolotl-god (You were one of the first accs I've ever interacted with, and truly helped me to keep going)

@river-nonbinary-billcipherfan (I've learned so much from your acc, and omg, thank you. Thank you for existing and being who you are)

@17ghostsinatrenchcoat (You seem such a genuinely nice person irl, I am really proud of you :])

@trickstertriangle (I wanna hug you/p, I love interacting with your blog and I truly hope the best for you.)

@bills-library (You were my inspiration to start this blog)

@sillycato (I love you so much/p you deserve thd world, omg infinite hugs and presents for you, you are an angel, this Lucas btw, just if you don't know lol)

@pandagobrr (I would always smile at your notifications, thank you ^^)

@ever-growing-system (I was research anon, and y'all truly helped me to figure out more of myself and my triggers, thank you :,])

If you're mentioned here, thank you so much for making this app a place that I could run to in my darkest days.

And if you're not mentioned here, there's two possible answers

1st- I forgot you and I'm sosososo sorry😭

2nd- Idrk you or dont interact much, but anyways, thank you for existing, breathing, getting out of bed, I'm so fucking proud of you. (Even who was mentioned, this is for you too)

I was always so scared that people wouldn't like me and that if I said one little thing wrong I was a terrible person, and I learned so much in this one year, that I finally can say, I'm proud of myself. I'm proud of going the lengths I went. There is lots to work on myself, I know there is, but one step at a time and maybe, one day, I might get there. But for now, I'll attempt into just not triggering myself.

-Lucas/Hyper

[goodiegoddesselle]

폭풍 (Storm)

pairing: bf!renjun x reader

genre: smut, shibari/rope, unprotected sex (wrap it yall), edging, oral (kinda?), begging, crying, cute nicknames

summary: the night was set to be perfect between you and renjun; a whole date was planned and everything. completely perfect, until a heavy rainstorm put a wrench in the entire situation. it was nothing but disappointing, and you could see it on his face, so you figured you could at least cuddle in bed or something. the cuddling was nice, but it didn't take long for renjun to remember something.

wc: 2k

minors dni. dont like, dont read.

______________________________________________________

When you peeked out of the window with your boyfriend earlier, it really didn't take much for both of you to feel equally disappointed. Sure, things were great the whole day all the way up until then, but suddenly your date was completely ruined by the pounding rain and bright strokes of lightning hitting your town. A deep sigh was pulled from Renjun's throat.

"I even paid for reservations..." he muttered, entirely dejected. You simply pressed your lips together tightly.

"We can always get it rescheduled, babe, don't worry about it," you replied. You were trying your best to help him feel better about the whole situation, but he still seemed to be—at the very least—quite annoyed about it. He simply turned away from the window and trudged to the brown couch of your living room, plopping down and grasping the remote to turn the television on. It hurt even worse that he couldn't find anything to watch at all, flipping through channel after channel followed by a long list of movies on Netflix he didn't even feel like watching anymore. You decided to sit down next to him and wrap your arms around his, hoping that at least cuddling him could do something.

It didn't take long at all for Renjun to lay his head on yours, which laid on his shoulder. He quirked his lip up in curiosity. "So what should we do then? We didn't really plan for this kinda thing to happen at all," Renjun whispered. A moment of silence passed before your shoulders raised in a gentle shrug as an answer.

"Honestly, I didn't think about that either. Wanna go to the room and get that figured out? Like cuddle or something in the meantime?"

"Sure, I guess. There's not much else to do other than that."

The two of you rose up from the couch, going step-by-step to your room with you in the lead. Most of you thought that Renjun was simply trudging behind you in disappointment or boredom—but there was always that small, small part of you that believed it could be the reason you secretly hoped for. Either way, you reached the bed faster than either of you thought, so there wouldn't be much time for it to continue anyway.

Renjun flopped onto the bed, followed by you, and you grabbed one of his arms as they crossed over his chest. You placed a tiny kiss on his neck, which made a quick shiver pass through him. Your eyes closed lightly.

"The rain is actually kind of nice to listen to, isn't it?" you asked. He nodded quietly. Silence passed between the two of you before he decided to strike into it with something you definitely weren't expecting to hear at all, especially from someone like your calm boyfriend.

"So I just remembered that there's something I've been wanting to try with you recently," Renjun mumbled, "and I wanted to ask if you wanted to try it too. Wanna see what it is?"

Your eyes shot open in curiosity. What the hell was he talking about? "Uh, sure, I guess."

He raised from the bed with a smirk on his face. You wondered what the smirk was about, but the thought simply passed away the longer you listened to the cooling sound of the storm continuing outside. It made you close your eyes again as he dug into a bag you noticed lying in the corner earlier. Yeah, you didn't know what was in it, but at least you were getting to see what's in it now. What you weren't expecting was for Renjun to come back with a smooth black rope bundle in one of his hands. The smirk still hadn't moved away.

"You know exactly what I'm about to ask you, Y/N."

Deep down, you definitely knew exactly what he was about to ask you. The even better thing is that, since you were aiming to ask him about this same thing for quite a while, you already knew your answer was going to be yes. Fuck yes, even.

"Renjun?"

"Yeah?"

"If you don't have me completely sealed in that in the next fifteen minutes, this night is going to become a battle."

"Oh really?" Renjun leaned in closer, gently putting his free hand on your chin and pulling you to him slowly. "Is that what my sweetheart wants? I never knew you'd be like this too; what a nice little thing to learn about you."

Goosebumps began spreading across your skin as he slowly unwrapped the bundle. His sharp eyes moved up to meet yours, and immediately you knew where this was headed. Maybe tonight wouldn't be too boring after all.

"Get undressed now. I want you on your knees before I'm done here," he ordered, continuing to move the rope at a pace you hoped would let you remove everything on time. You shot up, immediately ripping off all the clothing you could and pressing yourself to your knees on the mattress just as he finished with the bundle. His eyebrows raised and he chuckled. “I wasn’t expecting you to get that done so fast. You must be really excited for this, huh?”

You simply nodded, gazing into his eyes while he moved forward, gripping your wrists and pulling them behind your back. The rope was surprisingly soft around your arms, slowly pulling tighter and tighter around them as Renjun tethered you. Excitement ran through you as he finished, leaning back to face you again. He placed a small, hot kiss on your lips, making you want more and more until he pulled away. You didn’t even notice yourself trying to follow him when he pulled away until a hand landed on your chest, pushing you back a little bit.

“Look at you, wanting so much already,” Renjun joked, “but you’re not really ready for what we’re about to do here.” He pushed you back so you laid flat on the bed, head facing the ceiling as you wondered what he meant by that statement. You didn’t have to wonder for too long, however, as you felt his finger tease your clit, rubbing slow circles onto it and making you gasp.

Heat flowed through you almost immediately when he began, and hearing him chuckle at your response only made it flare up more and more. “You’re already so wet, sweetheart, how did you get there so fast?” he teased. His pace only picked up, which made you squirm more and more. The squirming cut when you felt his other hand push down on your belly.

“Stay in place or I’m going to stop, understand?” Renjun commanded. Two of his fingers began sliding into you at a torturous pace. How were you going to stay in place when he was doing so well already?

You watched as he leaned down and slid his tongue up to your clit, sucking on it as his fingers continued, picking up pace. As much as you wanted to close your legs around his head, his other hand moved to keep them spread. More moans left you and completely inflated his ego. Your wrists pulled harder at the rope, but no matter how hard you tried, they were bound under your back.

Renjun suddenly pulled away, making you groan in need. You wanted to stay in place, but your hips were rising still, moving up and down as he removed his fingers from you too, placing them on your clit instead. “Wait, wait…” you mumbled. “I’m so close—”

“Oh?” That was when you realized you shouldn’t have told him that. He moved away entirely and placed his fingers in his mouth, licking your essence off of them. “Glad you told me on time, sweetheart. We can’t have that happening so soon, can we?” Renjun teased. He began pulling his pants down, which made you wonder just where this was headed again. Nonetheless, you were waiting for it, thinking this would be pretty easy.

You were horrifically wrong.

It was almost like you were placed in another world when you felt Renjun pushing his member into you. You could feel your eyes rolling into the back of your head as he moved deeper and deeper, filling you up more and more. Even when he paused, groaning in relief as he took his small break, it felt like there was no end to it. Then he started up again, stroking into you slow and rough, leaning in to kiss you deeply as you whimpered into his mouth.

“This only gets better, feeling your sweet pussy squeeze me in like this…” Renjun moaned, his head leaning back. “You’re so perfect.” The ropes around your wrists only got tighter as you pulled at them. You wanted so badly to put your arms around his shoulders, to pull him in closer, but the ropes only kept you from what you wanted. He could see it in your eyes as he picked up the pace again.

“Does my baby want something? Hm?” he asked. His hands landed on the pillow on each side of your head. A moan from you rang throughout the room when Renjun leaned in and began placing kisses along your neck, nibbling and sucking marks onto you that would definitely show everyone who you belong to. “Is there something you need?”

“Y-yes—oh, fuck—yes, please,” you begged. “Please, I need more…”

“Is my baby close again?” Renjun mumbled in your ear. You nodded, and yet again, he stopped. A loud whine left you. “Not yet, the game is still going on.” You could barely catch your breath anymore, and you loved it. The break only lasted for a few moments before he started again, pounding into you harder than even before.

“Fuck, you feel so good…” he growled. You could even see him in you, a bump moving back and forth at the top of your belly, feeling him fill you up as much as he could. Tears began forming in your eyes as he continued, which made him smirk and wipe your eyes. 

“I can’t… too… too much…” It was as if your brain just stopped working.

“Sweetheart, look at you, fucked completely stupid,” Renjun teased again, “and I’m not even done with you.” Shutting your mouth felt like one of the most impossible things to do, but he wouldn’t ask you too either way, not when the noises you were making sounded like complete music to him. He shifted to hold your legs up to his waist, and the fire in him blazed up when he could feel your thighs shivering.

It only felt like heaven to him, feeling your walls clenched tighter around him. Renjun could barely even hold himself back anymore, but he didn’t really want to either. And hearing your cries, seeing the tears scroll down your face, hearing your juices move around him—it was all perfect.

“Junnie, please, please let me, I’m so—” One deep hit in you cut you off as you screamed into the room, syncing with a strike of thunder that reminded you about the storm you entirely forgot about.

“Don’t worry, me too,” Renjun replied, “just let go this time. Come on, cum for me sweetheart. Let me see you let go.”

It was almost as if the whole room disappeared in that moment, and that there was nothing but you two left as your high hit you. Renjun followed soon after, resting his face in your neck as he growled, tracing his teeth on you. After it all, you could feel his smile on your neck as he left a gentle kiss. Aside from the two of you catching your breath, the room was silent.

Renjun leaned back again. “That was a nice little thing to try, huh?”

You chuckled. “Definitely, especially on a night like this.”

“Good. I really hope you don’t think we’re done, though; I’m going to fuck all of me right back into you.”

[angstics]

i think the worst part isnt that i havent been in a relationship but the clear disadvantage i have in having not been. to myself not others. in terms of dealing with romantic-sexual relationships & encounters. it's like learning how to read far far too late. i didnt already make those mistakes and learn for them. being older doesnt stop you from making really dumb mistakes. the biggest mistake being the construction of fantasies & compromises to make certain situations "work". which is, again, very dumb. im scared that ill settle into a situation i dont really want just to have Something. im scared of this being taken advantage of. which im sure is all too common.